


The Tower Club

by doktorjackal777



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Gambling, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Slavery, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-15 18:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13619442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doktorjackal777/pseuds/doktorjackal777
Summary: The Tower Club. A wonderland of worldly vices and sin, where the demons of Greed, Wrath and Lust reign supreme and money is God. If you have the coin, there is nothing, and no one, that you can’t have.This is a series of stories about the workers at The Tower Club, the clients they serve and the Masters that run the show.[Chapters have their own summaries and tags]





	1. The Master Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Adrian Ryder is the owner of The Tower Club and is dealing with applications for new talent. He conducts an interview, requiring practical demonstration of the new hopefuls skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Human Male x Human Female  
> Tags: Vaginal Sex, Referenced (but not shown) Underage Sex, Orgasm Denial, Unsafe Sex (bare backing).

Lord Adrian Ryder had owned and ran the prestigious and decadent Tower Club for over fifty years, though he didn’t even look like he’d been alive that long, let alone old enough to have run a successful business for five decades.

If there was one thing Lord Ryder had learnt in his life, it was that if you had the coin, there was nothing you could not have and no door you couldn’t open. On that principal he had opened the Tower Club, a gleaming white brick fortress, towering over its neighbours as a shining temple to vice and debauchery. Eight floors of casinos, gladiator arenas, strip shows, themed hotel rooms, drugs dens, animal baiting pits and live sex show theatres. If his clients could dream it up, whatever they managed to pull from the recesses of their depraved minds, he would make their fantasies, reality.

Of course with such a large enterprise, and a staff of over three hundred, there was a lot to manage and as a result some things could slip through the cracks. Such as the forged stamps on a selection of slave transfer papers, and a list of work applications, only one of which sounded like it would be any fun to work on.

The hiring and firing of the general staff, the maids and waiters, the kitchen staff for the 24/7 room service, the card sharks and so on, all that was handled by his hotel manager. There was a time when he’d dealt with all the coming and goings himself but as the years went on and the enterprise had expanded he’d begun to delegate more and more of the Tower’s ancillary features to other, more specialised individuals.

One thing he’d kept on top of however, were the applications and requitement for the many public view theatres that offered the main draw of the establishment.

Being a Master of not insubstantial experience himself, he felt, above even the other Masters who plied their craft under his employ, he was uniquely qualified to properly interview and if required, inspect those who felt they were suited to performing at his illustrious theatre.

He would worry about the paperwork problems later.

**Applicant #1**

**Name:** Alison Veizmach

 **Age:** 20

 **Race:** Human

 **Hair:** Blonde

 **Eyes:** Green

 **BWH:** 36-24-32

The first applicant was curvy in the right places, though she looked a bit top heavy for her slender frame. She had a nice face, slender jaw, bright and expressive eyes – always a crowd pleaser – and full lips, even if she was wearing a bit too much makeup. The cut of her top both plunged all the way down her ample cleavage, and bared her midriff almost up to the same line, leaving only a single button keeping things together. Her pleated skirt rode low on her hips, the material just long enough to cover her decency while standing, though in her current position, sitting one leg over the other on the chair opposite, Ryder doubted there was much between her bottom and the chair.

Ryder hated to be stuck behind his desk when interviewing, especially not for these positions. It was too impersonal, and it was hard to evaluate the goods with a massive chunk of polished oak between you. So the chair his current applicant was sitting in was pushed back from the desk, giving him ample room to stand in front of her, lean against the edge of the desk, and walk around to examine his new potential employees from all angles if he wanted. If you weren’t comfortable having a man closely scrutinise you the way he did, well you were applying for the wrong business.

“What made you apply to this position?” Ryder asked, consulting the forms she’d submitted and making sure her stated appearance values were genuine.

“I just think I’m suited for the industry,” Alison responded promptly, smiling through rosy red lips. “Don’t you?”

“Perhaps,” said Ryder, returning his attention to his clip board.

Another thing he’d learnt in the years he’d been managing applications was to never start out by complementing people. When you hire them, and if they do good work later, you give them the acknowledgement and praise they deserve. But never start out the interview telling people they’re beautiful, or handsome, and never let the interviewee control the discussion and beg compliments from you. He’d done it in the past, spoken honestly, complimenting hair and eyes and endowments, but he found over time, that it was those individuals who would go on to cause the most inter-personal problems with other workers.

Successful applicants would let compliments during the interview process go to their heads, coming to believe they were somehow favoured over their co-workers, before they’d done anything of value to make their name.

Since then he’d made himself appear disinterested, as though each applicant was merely one of thousands he could have at any time. I have goddesses walking my boards, making gold coins in the thousands, for clients to have even an hour of their time, what makes you so special that you think you can live up to that?

“All the information on your application up to date?” Ryder asked.

“It was when I wrote it,” said Alison, then giggled. “I have filled out in the chest a little more since then though.”

She put her hands under her chest and lifted the generous mounds, before releasing them and letting them swing freely. Ryder felt sorry for her shirt button.

“And your new measurements?” he asked, getting out a pen.

“Thirty-eight on top,” Alison replied. Ryder made the correction. That seemed about right. “And I’ve slimmed my waist down another inch.”

Ryder motioned for her to stand up and she complied, her skirt falling to just below what would probably get her arrested walking down the street. It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time, that applicants had attended their interview looking like someone fresh off a corner in some degenerate corner of a back alley. The Tower was a more refined place than that, but as applicants rarely had the funds to be clients, assumptions were readily made.

He circled her slowly as he made notes, the scratching of his pen against the paper the only sound in the room for a while. He avoided her gaze and pointedly ignored any attempt she made to pose.

“Lose the top,” he said after several long minutes.

Alison popped the button one handed and let the scrap of cloth slip from her shoulders to land behind her. It was a graceful move to be sure.

Her breasts were large, and looked to be quite heavy, though the woman’s posture didn’t falter. Her nipples hardened quickly in the cool air of Ryder’s office, their darker colour complementing the paleness on Alison’s skin.

Her waist was quite tiny, though Ryder had seen thinner, the line of her hipbones visible. She wasn’t starved, but it was clear she was going for the natural “corset” waist.

“And the skirt?” Alison asked, her tone teasing as she hooked a thumb under the waistband.

“Did you attend a finishing school?” Ryder asked, ignoring her. Somehow he doubted her poise, posture and grace had sprung unbidden from her soul at birth.

“Sunworth Academy,” said Alison, with a broad smile.

Sunworth was well known among socialites looking to turn their frumpy or awkward daughters into perfect marriage-ready ladies. It was quite a prestigious institution. And an expensive one at that, which would suggest that Alison, or at least her family had money, possibly even a title of some kind.

Though he was a Lord himself, Ryder had always made a particular point not to dig into an applicant’s family history. Who a performer was outside the Tower, was irrelevant within its walls.

Even so, it was important to understand motivations.

“So what would persuade you too leave behind a gilded world for work in this particular industry?”

“Because it would bring me _pleasure_ to perform here,” said Alison. The way she emphasised the word pleasure suggested to Ryder that there was someone who would very much disapprove of her decision.

“I hope we won’t be having to field any angry letters or calls to the authorities due to your employment with us,” said Ryder.

“I’m an adult,” said Alison, clearly missing how petulant she sounded in that moment. “I can apply to work wherever I like, and no one can tell me otherwise.”

Ryder looked down at his clip board again.

“Lose the skirt.”

Another button popped and the skirt slid down Alison’s legs with a gentle sway of her hips. She had clearly chosen her outfit based on ease of removal.

As Ryder had suspected the woman wore no underwear and was completely clean shaven. It wasn’t something that worked on everyone, but there was something about her narrow waist and slender hips, regardless of her buxom top-half that made it work.

Ryder did another lap of her, taking in the gentle swell of her rear. It wasn’t flat, but it was clear her development had gathered more in another area. Tucking the clipboard under his arm, he fanned his hands out either side of her slim hips, not touching her, just measuring the feel of them. She felt younger from behind, not that twenty was old. He looked down at the clothes she’d shed, and apart from the size, it could have passed for a school uniform, sans tie. He wondered whether that had been what she had been going for. A youthful, slightly taboo look.

He made a note of it. After all, the Tower had served worse fantasies in the past, and it seemed to be an image she was pushing.

He walked past her to his desk and set the clipboard down, then turned back to her. Alison was posing again, leaning her weight on one foot, a hand on her hip to extenuate the curve of her back. He motioned her over and she moved to stand beside him. He placed a hand on the desk top.

“Lean over,” he said and she smiled.

Alison flipped her hair with a toss of her head, then leant over the waist high deck, bracing herself on her forearms.

Ryder walks behind her and laid a hand on the middle of her back.

“More.”

She bent over fully, her breasts pressed flat against the desk.

Ryder knelt behind her. He tapped the inside of her thigh to get her to widen her legs, then reached up to spread her lips with his fingers. Alison gave a breathy sigh at his touch.

“You don’t need to perform for me,” said Ryder calmly.

“I know,” replied Alison. “I’m not trying to.”

“Have you had sex before?”

“Oh yes,” said Alison. “Too many times to count. From as early as I could get away with it.”

“Just men?”

“Mmm, yes,” said Alison, moaning softly as Ryder traced a finger down to her clit. “Ever since I started becoming a woman I came to realise just how sensitive I was, down there. Yet, no matter how many men I had, every single one was convinced that he had been my first.”

Ryder had only barely been touching her, and already he could see her growing wet, her folds starting to glisten with her juices. He pressed a thumb to her clit and started rubbing it in slow circles.

“You said you’ve been having sex for as long as you could get away with it?” he asked. “When was your first time?”

Alison’s voice shook when she responded.

“I was fourteen,” she said breathlessly.

“That’s quite young,” said Ryder. “And certainly not legal in this country.”

“I sprouted up top very quickly,” she explained. “During the summer I realised fingers alone would never cut it for me. I remember craving someth—ah!”

Ryder removed his thumb from her clit, and slipped a finger into her. She was incredibly tight. Had he not know better, he too would have sworn she was not just a virgin, but again much younger than she was. He slid his finger in to the third knuckle though, with no sign of discomfort from the woman above him.

“I didn’t tell you to stop talking,” he said calmly as he gently thrust the finger in and out of her.

“Yeah,” she moaned, her hips moving unconsciously against the thrust of his finger. “I went to an all-girls school, so there was nothing for me there and I was tall enough that with my chest, I could pass myself off as older. I would sneak out of school on the weekends.”

“How naughty,” said Ryder adding a second finger, scissoring them to stretch her.

Alison groaned, her thighs trembling as she fought to stay upright in her heels. Ryder considered telling her to remove them, but he couldn’t deny her legs looked great in them and they had the added bonus of pushing her butt up nicely.

“It wasn’t hard to get into the parties,” continued Alison, between moans. The slightest touch really did seem to affect her. “It was even easier to convince a guest, or a servant to take me out to the garden or somewhere else more private. I got quite good at telling what a guy was packing.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” She turned to look at him, her cheeks flushed red. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Ryder removed his fingers and stood, making a production of cleaning off his hand.

“Stay there,” he instructed when she moved to stand again. “I should tell you we cater to a wide variety of individuals, of all shapes and sizes you could say. I suspect a few of our regulars, and plenty of the other performers could give you a better run for you money than random men at a party.”

“That was just at the beginning,” said Alison. “I found the better fun came down the docks. Two copper for a quickie from the foreigners just off the boats. Sometimes I’d have four or five each night.”

“And each one still thought you were their first?”

“Yeah,” said Alison. She was fidgeting from one foot to another, her hips unconsciously rubbing against the edge of the desk. “I was the tightest they’d ever had, and it’s never changed.”

Ryder moved to stand behind her again, this time taking hold of her narrow hips, rather than just ghosting his hands over them. There were no fleshy handles to grip, instead his hands slotted around her defined hipbones. Again, from behind, if you couldn’t see her chest pressed against the desk... He had quite a few clients who would enjoy the illusion of the forbidden fruit, and if she did indeed stay as tight as she claimed, well all the better to sell the fantasy. She’d have to ditch the heels and makeup of course.

He reached down to unzip his pants, the sound making Alison shudder in anticipation. If she’d been a virgin he would never do this, no point is wasting a selling point of a new hire after all, but for this one, well there was no reason not to.

With one hand on her hip, he guided the head of his shaft to her entrance. It was a tight fit and his instinct told him to take it slow as to not hurt her. That was until she groaned out an appeal for more. Deciding to thrown caution to the winds, Ryder grips her tightly with both hands and snapped his hips forward, burying himself halfway inside her in a single thrust.

Alison arched her back with a throaty moan, her legs sliding wider in a bid to give him more room to work between them.

Another thrust and he was in to the hilt. Not bothering to pause he set up an energetic rhythm, driving himself inside her now dripping nethers with abandon.

Not one word of protest fell from the woman’s lips, any sound she made just goading Ryder to fuck her harder and deeper. Her pleasure was some of the most genuine he’d seen from someone wanting to work in the industry, and the thought that is was him making her like this went straight to his dick. He’d been hard from the moment her skirt had come off, he was a man after all, though his pants hid that kind of thing well. He wasn’t interested in lasting to long though, this was a test drive not a road trip.

He smirked as he felt his climax growling closer.

“I’m going to come inside you,” he said as the head of his cock nudged her womb. “Hope you’re on something for that.”

Without waiting for a reply, he pushed as deep as he could, his pelvis flush with her rear and released himself inside her.

“Did you cum?” he asked as he pulled out of her, wiping himself off on a handkerchief and tucking himself away.

“Close,” she whimpered, her hand going between her legs to rub frantically at her clit.

“None of that,” said Ryder sternly, grabbed both wrists and holding them behind her back with one hand.

He reached down and opened one of the secret draws in the front of his desk, pulling out a long chilled stone from a cluster of gently smoking dry ice. He rolled it in his hand for a moment to make sure it wouldn’t burn, then pressed it between her folds, laying it against her entrance and clit. In the right situations ice and temperature place could be very erotic, but all Ryder was interested in was for the coldness to constrict the blood vessels in the area and pull her back from her climax.

Alison struggled against him, begging for him to let her come, but he just stood there holding the stone to her, until she started shivering. He pulled away and ran a finger over her shrunken clit, and though the woman shuddered, he knew her climax was long gone.

Putting the stone away he released her and took up his clipboard again, leaving her gasping in frustrated denial on the desk. When she finally stood up on shaky legs and fixed him with an angry glare, he slid a sheet of paper out from his clip board and handed it to her.

“Fill this out,” he said in a businesslike way, ignoring her dumbfounded face. “It’s about turn ons, hard limits, safe words, that kind of thing. Be as detailed as you like. We’ll use the information to match you with like-minded clients. You can go back to the waiting room now.”

It was clear that Alison didn’t know what to say, so simply stayed silent, moving to leave with the paper.

“Leave those,” said Ryder when she bent to pick up her clothes. He smirked when she looked at him with wide questioning eyes. “You heard me, now go on.”

Ryder watched her go until the door closed behind her bare ass and looked down at the application form, putting a tick near the top. Now hopefully the next applicant had as much to give as she did.


	2. The Master Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Ryder interviews a homophobic man who is very adamant that he only has sex with women and wants to be paid to do it.  
> Between him and two of the other club workers, Ryder discovers that there’s more than a little bit of denial going on with this particular applicant.  
> Not all the chapters will be interviews, these ones just got done first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: M/M/M/M All human.  
> Tags: anal sex, homophobic language, vulgar language, the lady doth protest too much, dub con, oral sex, threesome, virginity loss, first time with another man, first time oral,

The Tower got a _lot_ of male applicants. There was no shortage of men hoping to score a job that let them fuck a string of beautiful women for money, while a crowd of aristocrats watched on and marvelled at the size of their cock. Most of them got weeded out in the preliminary application screenings, but a few that suggested some level of promise made their way to the interview.

**Application #2**

**Name:** Cason Thik

 **Race:** Human

 **Age:** 34

 **Hair:** Brown

 **Eyes:** Blue

 **Penis Size:** 6.2inchs

The man in front of him slouched in his chair, elbows resting on his knees while the thin material of his shirt was busting to contain the muscles of his chest.

“So,” said Ryder. “What makes you want to join our organisation?”

“Come on,” said Cason in a gravelly voice, giving Ryder a conspiratory nod. “Who doesn’t wanna get paid to pound pussy?”

 _So he **was** another one of those_ , Ryder thought as he made a note of it.

“So is it just women you’re interested in?” asked Ryder.

“Of course it is,” said Cason wrinkling his nose in disgust. “I ain’t no faggot!”

“I meant no offense,” said Ryder calmly. “A routine question I assure you. Of course you understand we cater to a wide variety of clientele, and our promise is to make _any_ fantasy a reality.”

“Right,” said Cason, nodding. “Suppose those rich twink fuckers are good business.”

“Would you be willing to take your shirt off for me?” Ryder asked gently after a while. “I need to make sure you match the application specifics.”

“Sure,” said Caron, standing. He whipped the too-tight shirt off, and let it drop onto the chair.

It was clear the man worked out, either recreationally or through whatever job he currently had. He wasn’t particularly tall, you could even say he was a little short for a man. Perhaps that had led him to compensate by expanding his muscles, but either way, the man was certainly ripped. Every muscle on his chest and down his stomach was cleanly defined.

“Perhaps a foolish question,” said Ryder. “But have you had sex before.”

“Of course I have!” said Cason with a laugh. “I’d be a pretty sorry guy if I hadn’t had a woman before now!”

“Any current relationships that might affect your ability to perform?” asked Ryder. “Given the nature of the work involved, we wouldn’t want to be accused of abetting the commission of adultery.”

“Nah, I’m free as a bird,” said Cason. “Plan on keepin’ it that way as well.”

“Very well then,” said Ryder making a few more notes. “Would you mind removing your pants as well?”

“Why?” asked Cason.

“If you join our team you will literally be the ‘merchandise’, and it’s my responsibility to ensure everyone is operating at peak performance,” explained Ryder. “There’s also the matter of your self-reported size, which I will need to confirm for the paperwork.”

“What’s the matter, don’t trust me?”

“Well, you know how _some_ men are?” replied Ryder, making his tone clear that he wasn’t talking about Cason. “They like to over exaggerate.”

Cason laughed.

“Yeah,” he agreed readily. “I’ve had women complain to me, about how _that_ was supposed to be six inches.” He held up about four inches with his fingers. “They were pretty happy to see what a real man was like after that.”

As he spoke Cason undid his pants, letting them drop to the floor with his underwear. Even soft he was of reasonable size.

“How are you about oral sex?” asked Ryder.

“Bit of a hassle getting down there,” said Cason. “Legs everywhere and them squirming around. But if it gets ‘em wet, you do what you gotta.”

“I’m talking about receiving.”

“Yeah no problem with that,” laughed Cason. “Girls never look better than when they’re on their knees.”

“And your stamina?” asked Ryder.

“I go when I’m ready,” said Cason. “Not like there’s anything else to wait for, am I right?”

“When you’re performing for an audience, or a client, you need to be able to pace yourself and go when they’re ready,” said Ryder. “Remember everything we do is to please the client.”

“Yeah, I get ya,” said Cason.

“Good then, I shall ascertain your abilities,” said Ryder setting the clipboard down. “First I want you to kiss me.”

A wave of panic flashed across Cason’s face.

“Hey don’t you have some girls available for things like this?” he asked.

“I’m afraid I’m what’s available,” said Ryder. “And as the one who will be deciding on your employment, I’m the one you need to impress, not some random girl.” He reached up and undid his ponytail, letting his long dark hair spill over his shoulders. “But feel free to pretend I’m a woman if you’d like.”

“I intend to,” snapped Cason, as Ryder stepped closer.

The Lord watched the taller man lick his lips nervously, before leaning in and closing his eyes. The kiss was awkward, but Ryder had expected that, especially with the way Cason seemed to be struggling with the idea of kissing another man. However he suspected that even if that hadn’t been an issue, he would have still gaped at him like a dying fish. Even with his women it seemed the man didn’t indulge in much romance or foreplay. No matter, those kinds of things could be taught.

Ryder leaned into the kiss, quickly taking control of it with an expert press of lips and a tease of tongue.

“Hey what are you—“

“Consider it a lesson,” said Ryder softly against Cason’s mouth.

With a hand on the larger man’s waist and one on the back of his neck, Ryder dominated the kiss and when his tongue pressed more firmly at Cason’s lips, they parted almost reflexively. Ryder deepened the kiss, twining his tongue with Cason’s, and while the man was almost frozen under his hands, the pants of uneven breathes told him easily the kiss was having an effect.

He pulled back, and a second later Cason opened his closed eyes. Before the man could catch up with the reality that his kissing partner was still really a man, Ryder had sank to his knees in front him. Just as the man was leaning forward, Cason spoke up again, a slight tremor to his voice. “You, uh, suck a lot of guy’s dicks, do you?”

“Only when I need to,” assured Ryder. “Usually I have the applicants suck mine.”

“Well, that ain’t ever gonna happen with me,” said Cason quickly, though he wasn’t pulling away.

“Of course,” Ryder agreed immediately. “Don’t worry, we take our employees hard limits very seriously. No men, without your express permission. May I begin?”

“Ah, sure,” said Cason hesitantly.

Ryder lent forward and took Cason’s length in his hand. It was already starting to harden in the wake of the kiss, but Ryder didn’t draw attention to that fact as he guided the man’s shaft into his mouth.

Above him Cason hissed, and while Ryder never looked up or gave any indication he’d even _heard_ the involuntary vocalisation, Cason was quick to justify himself.

“Just, just not used to it being a guy,” he said quickly, almost stumbling over his words.

Ryder didn’t respond, merely slid the quickly hardening shaft further into his mouth. In a move he made look careless and subconscious, Ryder raised his free hand and tucked some of his hair behind his ear, baring his face again from behind the obsidian curtain.

Cason’s breath hitched almost immediately, his shaft twitching in Ryder’s mouth.

“Fuck,” the man cursed, his hands twitching by his side like they wanted to grab something.

Ryder glanced up through long lashes, watching the way Cason looked determinedly away at the wall or the ceiling. It might have appeared like he was merely enduring what was happening, if not for the way his gaze kept flicking down, locking briefly on the way his dick was vanishing into Ryder’s mouth. His shaft would twitch with interest in the dark-haired man’s mouth, before Cason forced himself to look away again.

Ryder avoided moaning or using too much tongue, the usual things he did to please his partners, which he worried would unnecessarily spook the larger man. But it didn’t seem to matter to the throbbing shaft in his mouth, which already seemed to be hurtling towards his finish.

With his free hand Ryder reached up to the cuff-link on his opposite wrist, making a motion like he was simply adjusting his sleeve while he pressed a hidden switch there. It was part of the Tower’s security system, all the performers, male and female carried something like it to alert the security in case of a violent guest or some other problem.

A minute later a hidden door in one of the walls slid silently open admitting two of the Towers security personnel, who doubled their time with the occasional performance. They were as muscular as Cason was, though they were both at least a head taller than him, and unlike him felt their homosexuality was no threat to their masculinity.

Suddenly Cason’s hand unclenched and buried itself in Ryder’s long hair, gripping tight then releasing to hold it more gently. Ryder glanced up again and this time met Cason’s gaze straight on. There was a hitch of breath and Ryder dived to take the man to the root as he came, swallowing every drop.

Ryder caught Cason as his knees gave out, lowering the man gently to the plush carpeted floor. He was on all fours, panting deeply, his eyes slightly glazed as he stared at the fibres between his fingers.

The security personnel moved behind him, as silently as ghosts, pulling off the little clothing they were wearing.

“I’ve never,” Cason swallowed around the word ‘cum’. “That hard before.”

“What can I say?” said Ryder. “I’m rather good at what I do.”

Cason was pretty perceptive though it seemed, as he looked up as shadows crossed his periphery.

"Who're these guys?” he slurred, his brain space still mostly locked on his climax.

“Security,” Ryder lied smoothly. “They’re here to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” said Cason then swallowed nervously, looking up at Ryder. “What’s next?”

Ryder grinned internally, as the two security personnel joined them on the carpet. Their faces were impassive and they knew what they were there for, they’re had been listening in from the office on the other side of the hidden door. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d been called in to help with a prospective hire, a little bonus between patrols around the hotel and the occasional call to deal with a rowdy gambler on the casino floor.

Ryder leaned in to kiss Cason again, noting the way the man choked on a moan at tasting himself on the owner’s tongue. As he did so, one of the officers reached out to touch the shorter man’s lower back, moving slowly like he was working to calm a wild tiger with an injured paw. It was the moment of truth, to see how Cason would react, would he freak out and potentially get violent? But while the man did indeed jump a little at the surprise touch, his focus on the kiss seemed to be overriding the hands that anchored on his hips and moved him into position.

“I assume you’re clean?” asked Ryder between their lips.

“Ah, yeah,” said Cason. “Showered ‘afore I left.”

“Mmm, good,” said Ryder sealing their mouths again.

The officer bent down, and gently spread the man’s muscular cheeks, baring his tightly clenched entrance.

“H…hey…” Cason stammered breaking the kiss, but his objection broke off into a low groan, at the press of a hot tongue against his hole.

Ryder raised a hand and the officer pulled back.

“I did say no men without your express permission,” the owner said, sounding guilty as though he had merely forgotten about it. “Is it alright for him to continue?”

Cason’s mouth worked several times without success, his face flushed cherry red.

“Y…yeah,” he said hesitantly.

The officer gently flipped him over onto his back, pulling his hips up so that only Cason’s shoulders were still in contact with the floor. Arms wrapped around Cason’s hips, so he didn’t have to bend down, he lifted the shorter man’s ass right up to his face. Cason’s legs flopped back with gravity, the position pulling him open and spreading him completely for the officer’s gaze. Cason initially tried to close them reflexively, but the security office pushed them slowly but firmly apart again.

Cason watched with wide eyes, like he wasn’t quite sure it was his own body he was seeing as the officer buried his face back between the man’s cheeks, tongue pressing once more to that puckered hole.

The officer lapped at it with the flat of his tongue, pushing every now and then to tease the potential of penetration but never quite getting there.

Cason shuddered, his entire body covered with a thin sheen of sweat. It hadn’t taken long before his dick started to become interested again, his shaft hard and red, pressed taut against his six pack. His brow was furrowed, his face red as he kept forgetting to breath. The man’s back arched every time the tongue pushed to enter him and didn’t, a groan leaving his mouth whenever it pulled back.

Ryder leant over Cason, a calm smile on his face.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, his tone genuine. “You look frustrated.” When Cason could do no more than pant, he continued. “Do you want it inside?”

Cason shuddered and it was all the answer Ryder needed. He looked up at the officer and nodded when their eyes met.

The officer stabbed his tongue forward, pushing it through the man’s twitching ring, holding it there as Cason’s muscles fluttered and clenched around it. Cason practically wailed, his head tossed back and his fingers scrunched into the carpet. The officer pulled his tongue all the way out, ignoring Cason’s whimper at the loss, then thrust it in again, repeating the action until the man’s hole was winking at him. It only took a few rounds of this before Cason was arching and cumming over his own belly.

The officer pulled back, licking his lips where Cason could see him, before gently lowing him down so that his hips were resting on the officer’s lap. Cason’s face was caught between disgust and arousal, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just enjoyed. He looked down as he was moved, his eyes locking with the officer’s hardened shaft, so close it was to his slick opening.

“Want to him to rub against you?” asked Ryder, as serenely as ever. Truth be told he had expected to have to work a lot harder to break through the man’s barriers about this kind of thing. “He won’t put it in unless you say so.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Cason swallowing nervously. His head was still swimming with the afterglow of his climax, and for some reason his ass was aching like it had an serious itch that needed scratching. “S…sure.”

The officer lowered his shaft to Cason’s entrance, pushing on it gently again, like with his tongue, teasing the possibility of penetration before sliding past and rubbing the length of it down his crack. Then he reversed the motion, sliding it back the other way and letting the head of it make little nudges at the man’s hole as it passed.

Again it was those little nudges, those little broken promises of penetration had Cason groaning in disappointment. He opened and closed his mouth several time, the words “Just stick it in already!” clear across the frustrated crinkle of his brow, but something stopped him from saying it each time. Everything else he’d allowed, maybe he’d been able to justify it away somehow in the corner of his mind, but even he couldn’t deny that if there was a penis in his ass, there’d be no going back.

And again _normally_ Ruder wanted to save someone’s virginity for a client or a debut performance, but if Cason was going to fit in at the Tower, and really flourish as a performer, there were some things he was going to need to come to terms with. He considered asking Cason whether he wanted to switch to fingers, but immediately abandoned the idea. They were so close at this point, that any pull back might make Cason call the whole thing off. Before Ryder could fully decide on his plan of action, Cason spoke up.

“Fuck,” he panted. “It fucking itches.”

“Itches?” asked Ryder gently.

Cason’s hole was twitching constantly now, clenching on nothing with each pass of the officer’s shaft. On the next one, the officer pushed a little harder with the tip of his cock, just a little more and the head would break through and push inside. He stilled, not moving, his hands resting on but not holding onto Cason’s hips to see what the man would do.

The man’s chest was heaving, his eyes locked on his own hole. Just as Ryder opened his mouth to give him a little verbal push, it was Cason who made the move. He took a shuddering breath, then pushed his hips back against the officer’s length. There was a beat of resistance, before the flared head popped inside, stretching Cason’s hole around it’s girth.

Cason tossed his head back, with a quick succession of pained pants. Saliva was never going to be the best of lubes, and so it must have burned terribly. Even so, he didn’t try and pull back again.

The officer waited until Cason had started to relax again, before pushing deeper. Though some weak mumbled protests bubbled up between Cason’s kissed bruised lips, he managed no more than a weak push against the officer’s legs.

The second guard scooted behind Cason, gently manipulating his body, so that the shorter man’s lower back rested against his pelvis and his upper back was against the guard’s chest. Together they slowly got him vertical, so he was sitting in the officer’s lap, though most of his weight was being supported by the guard behind him.

Cason panted, dizzy from the sudden position change, groaning as he was forced to sit and take the man’s shaft deeper.

The guard let his large hands roam over Cason’s body, over his hips, down his thighs and over to his groin where they wrapped around his flushed and leaking shaft. The officer rocked his hips a few times, then with elbows under the man’s knees, started to bounce him up and down on his cock, in an opposite rhythm to what the guard was doing with his hands.

Cason’s head fell back to lay on the guard’s shoulder, as he gasped and moaned with every thrust. Every now and then his breath would hitch particularly high, suggesting the officer had managed to graze his prostate, but it seemed the majority of his pleasure, and certainly the thing that had reduced him to a glassy eyed mess, was the mere presence of a cock in his ass. Both security men were quite well endowed, and Ryder was rather enjoying the way Cason’s hole was being stretched so wide around it, its edges having already darkened to a rosy red. He wasn’t bleeding, but for a virgin to be taking larger cock, well Ryder had no doubt he was probably feeling a not insubstantial amount of burn. And yet, he groaned loudly, his hips jerking against the officer’s to encourage his movements.

Ryder smiled and stepped up to them, quietly unzipping his pants and freeing his erection. He cupped Cason’s cheek, gently turning his head to face him, the tip of the lord’s cock almost at his lips. He didn’t force the man to take it, or make any order, he just stood and waited, gently stroking himself and seeing what the man would do.

Cason licked his lips nervously, his gaze flicking between the shaft in front of him and Ryder’s calm expression. He’d said at the beginning of the interview he would never suck another man’s dick. So why then was his mouth watering? A bead of precum had oozed to the top of Ryder’s shaft. From Cason’s point of view it seemed to glisten in the room lights. He hesitantly opened his mouth, and Ryder moved too slowly feed his length across the man’s tongue.

Though Ryder eventually put a stabilising hand on the man’s head, he did nothing to dictate which way Cason should move. He didn’t even thrust, instead letting the man take his time exploring the sensation of having a cock in his mouth. His tongue moved hesitantly as first, then with more boldness, his eyes slipping closed. He seemed lost in the feeling of the hot, hard weight on his tongue.

The officer slowed his thrusts to a gentle roll of hips while the guard made his ministrations on the Cason’s shaft lazy, just enough to maintain the man’s erection.

The reduced sensations from elsewhere let Cason focus completely on the task in his mouth, his senses soon drowning under the taste and smell. When he tried to lean in and take more, Ryder stepped forward to meet him, feeding more of his shaft into the man’s mouth until it bumped against the back of his throat. Cason gagged reflexively, a few tears sprinting to the corners of his eyes.

Ryder pulled back slightly, not interested in choking the man and knowing he was nowhere near ready to try deep throating. He started to shallowly thrust, just rubbing himself back and forth on Cason’s tongue. The man in question was quickly relaxing into it, moaning softly, his breath hitching every now and then when the head of Ryder shaft brushed to close to his throat again.

“I’m going to come in your mouth,” said Ryder softly. He was close but there was still time for Cason to pull away if he wanted to. “I’m going to release onto your tongue, and you’re going to taste me.”

Cason’s brow furrowed at this, clearly not liking the idea, so Ryder felt it was time to give the man a little push.

The lord placed both hands on Cason’s head, gently manipulating him until the head of his cock sat on the back of the man’s tongue. He wasn’t restraining him, Cason could still pull away at any time if he tried. When Ryder came there would be an explosion of taste, before his seed would shoot down the other man’s throat, forcing him to swallow. He held it there, watching the way Cason’s mind clicked over. He gave a groan of protest, though his hands never rose to try and push Ryder off him. The vibrations of his voice however was all the lord needed to go over the edge.

Ryder shuddered in his climax, thick ropes of seed bursting forth and coating the inside of Cason’s mouth. The man gagged briefly in surprise, making a displeased sound at the taste. The lord didn’t move, looking down at Cason as he struggled with a mouthful of cum.

“Swallow,” said Ryder. He dropped a hand to the man’s throat, gently massaging until, with a shudder Cason swallowed.

Ryder pulled out immediately, letting Cason turn his head to the side and cough. He lord hung back, ready for an earful but none came, Cason just panted for a while as he got his breath back. Ryder didn’t fail to notice however the way the man was continuing to swallow, his tongue moving around his mouth as though subconsciously trying to get every drop.

Ryder fixed his pants and nodded at the officer before turning away. The man picked up his rhythm inside Cason again, wringing a yelping moan from the man, as the stretch and burn in his hole was returned full force.

Letting the whimpers and moans fade into white noise, Ryder picked up his clipboard and made a tick in the appropriate place. There was obviously work to be done before Cason would be suitable for his debut, but there was potential there. Once he’d set the man up with a firm male dom that was.


	3. Nina Loses Pt. 1: The Seacow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An abridged version of Nina’s encounter with the Minotaurs, from my currently-on-hiatus story Nina’s World Tour. This is an AU scenario where she loses her bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nina’s Contract (Short Version)  
> I, Nina Sterling, do hereby enter into a betting contract with the Guild of Chance.  
> I bet that I can have unprotected sex with otherkin, while wearing a registered arcane device designed to keep my body at peak levels of fertility, and remain child free for the length of one year.  
> Pairings: M/F, Male Minotaur x Human Female  
> Tags: oral sex, vaginal sex, no underwear, no birth control, pregnancy risk sex, interspecies sex, size kink, public sex, voyeurism

The Seacow was the only vessel travelling to Nyuesi the guild master could find on such short notice. Everything else would have had them waiting anywhere from a day to a week. The ship was of medium size made mostly of a dark coloured wood, with thick black sails.

Standing on deck and looking out over the harbour had Nina a little emotional. This was the first time she would be leaving her home city on her own. Well mostly on her own, given that she had a grumpy mercenary hanger on with her now.

The sun was shining overhead, the breeze relaxingly cool and around her the ship’s crew were unwinding, now that the hard part of leaving port was behind them. And it was then that Nina realized they hadn’t gotten tickets on a human ship.

Minotaurs. Dozens of them. Muscular bodies covered in thin wiry hair, ranging from deep browns, to golden creams and splotchy black and white. Their heads were like bulls with long muzzles and wicked looking curved horns. Their eyes were varying shades of yellow and orange and had the sparkle of intelligence sorely missing in the docile farm animal they resembled. and hard black hooves for feet.

None of them were wearing shirts and their pants seemed to all be in various states of ripped, from the knees up to the mid-thigh, their long tuft-ended tails poking through specially cut holes in the back.

A black haired one was lazing on the boat’s side, sitting up on the edge with one leg up and the other hanging down the other side and his braced arms behind him. This one was wearing a pair of cut off shorts, so loose that you could see right up the pant leg to see the bull wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Did you know about this ship?” asked Nina to Risk.

“I knew the Seacow was a minotaur only crew,” replied Risk. “But it being the only ship available, I think that was just a coincidence. The Seacow is mostly a stock vessel, they don’t usually take passengers. They probably don’t give one shit that we’re here.”

“Well you can’t deny it isn’t a lovely day,” said Nina. “Maybe we should relax as well. We won’t get there for a few days yet, might as well enjoy the trip.”

“You do whatever you want,” said Risk. “I’m just here to be your bodyguard.”

Nina looked around the deck, taking in the crew. Minotaur’s were certainly magnificent creatures. It was true they weren’t at their destination yet, but she doubted the guild would mind if she started early. A crew of minotaur, all of whom were male and her the only female. It wouldn’t take her long to find one who was missing the touch of a woman.

She caught the eye of the one on the side of the boat and sent him a coy smile, which he returned with a smirk.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Risk. “And far be it for me to interfere with your bet, but I only get paid as long as we’re on this trip. You don’t want to start with minotaurs.  They don’t have the rock bottom fertility rates of the rest of the otherkin so unless you want to turn around as soon as we get to Nyuesi, I’d skip this one.”

She looked down at the purple pendent hanging from her neck. When she’d first put it on it had felt slightly warm against her skin, surprising given that it was made of stone. She didn’t feel any different while wearing it, but if she ran her fingers over the stone’s surface, they tingled a little, so she knew it was doing something.

“Very well,” she said. “I suppose I can survive this boat trip unmolested.”

“Such a hard life you lead,” said Risk sarcastically.

Though she was enjoying herself on deck, lazing in the sun Nina’s disappointment wouldn’t fade. She didn’t bother to hide the way she was watching the crewmembers, lying down on the deck so she could catch glimpses up short’s legs as the bulls walked passed. It hadn’t gone unnoticed either, as several of them had thrown her gestures during the day, openly inviting her over.

Eventually one walked boldly up to her, one large black hoof coming down right beside her head, giving a glorious view of a large dark fleshed shaft and a pair of heavy balls. He was teasing her, she knew it and was delighted.

The thoughts of what that member would look like fully erect swum in her mind, and she could feel the warmth growing between her legs as she let her mind wander. Her dress was long, and covered her completely but she wondered if any of them had been able to guess that beneath it she wasn’t wearing panties.

She smiled up at him, making no efforts to hide the fact that she was looking directly at what he was so shamelessly displaying for her.

The minotaur shifted to stand above her, one hoof on either side of her head looking down at her pleased face.

“Like what you see?” he asked, a roar of laughter rising amongst the other crewmembers.

“Oh definitely,” said Nina.

The minotaur above her was defiantly a specimen.

“I’d be happy to show you more, if you’d be willing to lift that dress for us,” said the minotaur, his yellow eyes twinkling.

“Just lift my dress?” Nina asked innocently.

The crew laughed again.

“The boys want to see what colour your panties are.”

Nina grinned like a cheeky cat.

“What panties?”

A roar of interest went up around the crew, along with a few hoots.

The minotaur above her laughed.

“Lift it then and I’ll give you a good look.”

Nina kept her eyes on the minotaur above her, moving her legs from where they’d been loosely crossed over each other. She brought her knees up with her feet flat on the deck, her long sundress making a flowery tent over her pressed together legs.

She pinched her fingers on the material at her waist and started to slide it slowly up her legs. The minotaur made encouraging sounds though she hardly needed it. As her dress slid up to her knees she could spy several of the crew moving to get a better vantage point. She chuckled at this.

She hadn’t worried much about her downstairs as she’d been going through school, but now that she was planning for lots of people to see it, she’d put some effort into it. She wasn’t completely hairless though, she’d left a neat triangle on the front pointing teasingly down to a pair of pale naked lips.

“They seem rather eager for it to,” she said.

She gave her dress a tug and the material slipped over her knees to pool on her belly. It was clear now that she was indeed wearing nothing under her dress, but with her legs closed there still wasn’t much to see.

Nina smiled expectantly up at the minotaur. He laughed but nodded, pulling on the leg of his shorts. His sack swung free, and the length of his shaft was more clearly visible now. It looked thicker. Was the minotaur getting hard? Her hips shifted at the thought, a slickness gathering in her nethers now.

The minotaur above her glanced behind him, then back down at her.

“Show ‘em a little more won’t you?” he asked.

“More?” she asked innocently. “I lifted my dress.”

There was a pause then suddenly the minotaur squatted down. Nina’s eyes widened at the large sack that was now hanging above her.

“Spread ‘em,” said the minotaur. “Spread ‘em wide and I’ll get it out for you.”

Nina let her legs fall open, then shifted her feet wider. Her wet slit was fully on display now, and the crew roared their approval.

The minotaur above her nodded again, before pulling down the waistband of his shorts, tucking it under his sack so both it and his obviously hardening shaft were in full view.

Nina slowly reached up, pressing her palm under the minotaur’s sack so she could feel its weight. The bull’s shaft twitched at her touch.

“Heavy,” she commented.

“Yeah,” said the minotaur.

She raised her other hand as well, wrapping her slender fingers around the base of his shaft. It was thick in her hand, bigger than she could hold and was swelling further as she touched it.

Around them the rest of the crew was watching. Some were watching her touch the minotaur, but most of them had their eyes locked on her leaking entrance, their hands in their own pants.

“They want to fuck you,” said the minotaur, balancing his elbows on his knees as he let the human woman stroke his shaft.

“I have no doubt,” said Nina. “I’m sorry that I will have to decline the invitation.”

“Worried what your boyfriend would say?” asked the minotaur.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” said Nina. “He’s my bodyguard.”

“Not a very good one is he?”

“Oh, he wasn’t hired to protect me from things like this,” said Nina. “He’s only here so I don’t get abducted by pirates or something.”

“That so,” said the minotaur.

“Mmm, yes,” said Nina, moving her hand more firmly over the minotaur’s shaft

“You wet?” the minotaur asked.

“Yes.”

“Touch yourself,” he ordered. “If you won’t let them touch you, let them watch you slide your fingers into that pretty little hole.”

“If I do that, then I won’t be able to touch you,” said Nina.

“You only need one hand,” said the minotaur. “Leave the balls.”

Nina pouted and gave his sack a squeeze.

“But I love how heavy you feel in my hand,” she said.

“Plenty of seed to go around,” smirked the minotaur. “But unless you want me unloading it in that pretty slit of yours, I’d put something else in there quick.”

She knew he was only teasing, but his words made her groan. The thought of him pushing such a thick shaft into her; forcing her to take it as he filled her belly with his cum. Her hand fell from his sack to her own wetness. Nina dipped her fingers in her juices, getting them slick before moving them to rub against her clit. She moaned softly at her own touch.

Suddenly there was a thump of the minotaur’s knees hitting the deck beside her head, the head of his thick shaft pressing insistently against her lips.

“Open,” the minotaur ordered, his voice thick with arousal.

There was no way she would be able to fit the whole thing, no way in the world, but she obeyed his order, pulling the slick head into the warm cavern of her mouth. She closed her lips around it and sucked gently.

The minotaur groaned, the sound almost a growl.

“That’s right,” he said. “Take as much as you can.”

He reached down to cradle the back of her head in one large hand, manipulating the angle of her head until she could slowly take a little more of his shaft. She was never going to be able to take the whole thing, they both knew that, especially in this position, but that didn’t stop the minotaur from working the head of his shaft to the back of Nina’s throat.

Nina let him do as he pleased, her fingers moving over herself now. She was practically dripping under a combination of her own touch and the rough way the minotaur was making her suck his shaft.

To the delight of the rest of the crew, she finally slid her fingers further down, slipping one into herself. Some of the crew had ventured closer now and Nina could feel their gaze burning into her nethers.

She spread her legs further and tilted her hips up to give them the best view she could as she slid her finger deeper inside. She quickly added a second finger, her body well used to her own touch. She scissored them, spreading herself for their hungry gaze. She could hear the sounds of flesh on flesh and knew the crew was pleasuring themselves to the sight of her dripping entrance.

Nina couldn’t see very well with the minotaur’s hips in her face, but she gasped slightly around the bull’s shaft when a large hand reached out to take hold of her wrist pulling her fingers out of her passage. She whimpered at the loss.

Suddenly a finger much larger than her own was pressing between her folds, pushing deeply into her and curling against her sweet spot. Her walls clenched reflexively against it, a low moan slipping from her lips. It was surprise, but not an unwelcome one.

The next touch was a thumb pressing against her clit, and rubbing it in large, slow circles. The finger inside her was moving now, thrusting in and out, pressing against her sweet spot every time.

Nina’s hips were jerking, the pleasure building quickly inside her. She returned her attentions to the minotaur’s shaft, sucking enthusiastically, and humming, letting the vibrations of her voice run up the bull’s spine.

More hands were on her now, running down her legs, over her sides and reaching up to squeeze her breasts. She was being touched everywhere, and she could still barely see what was going on. She had no idea who was touching her or how many there were. Her moans were becoming more strained, peaking with intensity when the crew member between her legs added another finger. Even though it was only the two they were so big she was starting to feel the stretch.

“I wish I was inside you,” said the minotaur above her, his hips starting to rock into her mouth.

Nina made a curious kind of sound around his shaft, encouraging him to keep talking.

“As soon as you said you weren’t wearing underwear I knew I wanted to be inside you,” he continued. “Obviously I’d have to start with fingers, you’re so small. I could do it now, you’ve been stretched. Push all the way in and stretch you out around my shaft.”

Nina’s muffled moans were making his hips move faster now, the human doing all she could to keep up with it.

“I’d fill you deep,” said the minotaur, loving the effect his words were having on her. “As deep as you could take. Snap my hips and give it to you like you’ve never had. You’d be so tight around me I doubt I’d even be able to last that long. You’d feel so good I’d lose control, slamming into you and making you scream.”

Nina thought she probably would be screaming if it wasn’t for the shaft in her mouth. The fingers inside her were thrusting hard now, her hips bucking up to meet them as her climax grew ever closer.

Then suddenly, the fingers withdrew, leaving her empty. Her walls twitched, clenching around nothing. She whimpered pitifully around the bull’s shaft.

The minotaur leaned down, so he could mutter the next words in her ear.

“Say the word and I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll slide between your thighs and bury myself all the way to the hilt, as much as you can take. I’ll pound your insides until we both can’t take it anymore.”

Nina whimpered again, moving to take over from the vacant fingers, but found her movement halted by the large hands on her wrists. Her clit was burning, and her inside were throbbing with her denial.

That was all Nina could take. She jerked her head back, letting the shaft slip from her mouth and spring back against the bull’s taut stomach.

“Please,” she gasped, gazing up at the bull with wide eyes.

“You want me?” he asked.

“Yes,” breathed Nina. “I want to cum.”

The hands on her wrists vanished and the bull knelt up. He shifted down and pulled Nina’s hips up onto his lap. His thick shaft was oozing a continuous stream of precum, as he pressed it to Nina’s stretched hole.

“I’m going to finish inside you,” he said. “If you let me enter you, I’m going to spray my seed against your pretty pink insides, as deep as I can.”

When she moaned at his words, he chuckled.

“You’d like that though wouldn’t you?” he asked. “You want to get a full load right inside that little fertile womb of yours. So…”

He leaned down and growled the next words in her ear.

“…are you ready to bear my fruit?”

“Yes!” gasped Nina.

The bull pushed into her slowly, the fingers she’d taken not quite enough to have prepared her for the stretch. Her back arched against the deck, as he slid deeper inch by inch. He’d felt large in her mouth, but now it felt like there was no end to the shaft that was splitting her open.

The bull stopped about half-way inside to give Nina a chance to catch her breath. It was hard, she may not have been a virgin before starting her journey, but she’d never taken something like this.

“You’re tighter than I expected,” said the minotaur, rolling his hips a little to test whether or not she was ready for more. “No matter, I’m going to give you every inch.”

He started thrusting gently, getting a little bit deeper every time. Nina could barely string her thoughts together let alone say anything. The hot burn in her passage was incredible, and only seemed to get worse the deeper he got, as the fingers that had stretched her had only managed to get so far. Her body struggled to accommodate him, and yet, though she groaned in painful pleasure, her head thrown back against the deck and her back bowed in a graceful arch, she’d never had such a delicious feeling inside her in all her life. Though her human pussy hadn’t been made for the cock of a minotaur, it still felt like it was meant to receive it.

Seeing as he was getting no protests from the woman beneath him and her body seemed to be slowly accepting his girth, the bull sped up his thrusts, making each one deeper and harder than the last.

Nina gave a sharp _‘ooh’_ , as the head of his dick bumped against something inside her, something hard and resisting, which ached a little in response to the impact. He did it again, and the woman’s legs tried to close reflexively.

The bull took hold of her thighs, spreading her wide and using his strength to keep them open as he thrusted. A smirk was slowly spreading across his face as he pounded into her, no doubt feeling the difference in texture against the head of his shaft. He rolled his hips, changing the position until he was hitting it more firmly and with more accuracy.

Nina groaned but didn’t resist. She felt so full and the throbbing ache was making her clench around him. It was an ache she was familiar with though, somewhere in the back of her mind, and in a spark she understood what was going on. The bull was so deep inside her, he was hitting her cervix. The look of realisation that spread across her face, only made the smile on the minotaur’s face widen.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“Aches,” moaned Nina.

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

Panting heavily Nina met his gaze and nodded. Her nethers were already throbbing, with a combination of the stretch and her arousal, her ignored clit begging to be touched.

As though reading her mind the bull lowered his fingers to her swollen bud, rubbing in slow circles as he pounded his hardness inside her. Nina tossed her head, the pain of his ruthless battering of her insides, colliding with the rising pleasure of his touch on her clit. She could feel her climax growing closer, her passage twitching and fluttering around his shaft in response.

“I’m close,” the bull grunted suddenly.

Nina didn’t know when she’d closed her eyes, but they snapped opened at the minotaur’s words.

Her breath hitched, a sudden wave of fear washing over her. This was it. If she let it continue, this was where her journey ended, before it had even begun.

She licked her lips, trying to return some moisture to her dry mouth. The words: _‘I’ve changed my mind,’_ were on the tip of her tongue.

“Yes,” she panted instead.

The minoatur’s thrusts were short and more erratic as he barrelled towards his climax. He shuddered and snapped his hips one last time, his hands going back to her waist as he forced himself into the hilt. Nina groaned as the head thudded against her cervix, the minotaur’s shaft twitching as thick white ropes of seed splashed against the entrance to her fertile womb. His thumb was back at her throbbing clit in an instant, rubbing strongly until Nina was arching and gasping in pleasure, her own finish crashing down on her in waves as her cervix twitched rhythmically to accept every drop of seed it had been given. 

Nina flopped back exhausted, barely whimpering as the bull pulled out of her. She felt like she was being turned inside out by the long slow pull of his shaft, then a great rush of heat as his seed pooled onto the decking beneath her.

The minotaur stood, rolling his shoulders and cracked his neck looking satisfied. He looked down at the dazed woman, a grin on his face.

“That was one of my best in a long while,” he said. “Haven’t cum that hard in ages.”

“Glad to be of service,” said Nina, with a tired laugh.

Having already given in to the black-haired minotaur, Nina found it hard to say no to requests from the rest of the crew on their journey east. It seemed every time she went anywhere on the boat, there was a minotaur, sometimes two, ready and waiting to take her. On deck, in the corridors, the galley, the crew quarters. Four or five times a days, she would let herself be bent over whatever surface was convenient, and have a young virile cock coat her insides with potent seed.

Even if minotaurs didn’t have a better chance than the rest of the otherkin, purely by volume Nina’s fate was sealed. By the time the Seacow pulled up at the harbour in Nyuesi, her magical pendent had darkened from purple to a deep red, pulsing softly against her chest as is reacted to the changes inside her body.

“You sure you want to stay on the ship?” asked Risk, as he stood on the gangplank, ready to leave.

“Yeah, I’m going to stay,” said Nina. “I don’t know who the father is, but it’s someone here, and the child will be a minotaur so…”

“Right,” said Risk. “I’ll let the guild know.”

Nina watched him leave with a smile on her face and turned to look back at the crew. They all looked very happy at the idea of her staying permanently. She looked down and cradled her stomach, which was still flat but she knew wouldn’t be for long. She wondered whether it would be a boy or a girl. It didn’t matter to her either way, but, she smiled and walked back into the arms of the crew, she’d be sure they had lots of brothers and sisters to play with.


	4. The Slave Girl Pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young mute slave girl is saved from her life of hard labor, but then sold to the Tower Club, along with some other women, by a corrupt guard. Now she has to get used to her new life, and hopefully even find some enjoyment in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Fae’rn(Elf) Man X Fae'rn Woman  
> Tags: slavery, virgin, forced orgasm, mild dominance/submission, mute character

After they took my name they called me Girl. Sometimes they called me number one-hundred and three. Sometimes they called me slave. All I knew was pain, hunger and hard work.

Until the heroes came.

I watched from the mining pit as they fought the slavers and broke our chains. For the first time in as long as I could remember, the sun no longer felt like an oppressive heat, instead it shone with the light of freedom.

For a time.

When the heroes had collected their rewards and moved on to their next adventure, the local authorities came in to take over. They brought us out of the mine and lined us up to be “processed”. The human men and women had their names written down, were given water and sent to wait in a train of covered wagons ready to take them away to safety and freedom. Those who weren’t human were told to line up again.

Once all the humans were accounted for, their wagons left. I never saw any of them again, but as their caravan vanished over the wall of the mine, I wished them well.

Most of the slaves had been human, so only about thirty of us remained. A guard walked back and forth in front of us, looking us up and down. After a while he started to point some of us out. Those two dwarfs, the one-eyed minotaur, the goblins.

“Got work in Ghansea,” he told them. “You’ll work on a discount in return for a roof over your head. After a year you can stay or go as you please. Sound good?”

After they left in their wagon there was only six of us left, all women.

The guard walked the line again, checking eyes and mouths. When he got to me he tilted my head back, revealing the jagged scar I knew marred my flesh. He hummed thoughtfully.

“Can you speak?” he asked releasing me.

I shook my head. Truthfully I knew I was lucky to be alive. The roar for quiet, the swing of the serrated blade, the burning red pain. These were things that still haunted my dreams years later.

“Suppose there would be some that would go for that,” he said vaguely, then turned away.

We were loaded into the last wagon with a single jug of water to share.

The breeze felt nice as we drove along, even if the sun overhead was still bright.

I was tired. More tired than I’d ever been, even after the 12 hour days we’d worked in the mine. Around me the other women were falling asleep slumped in their seats.

I blinked and it was night time. My body felt numb, like my arms and legs had decided to go on holiday without me. Outside the wagon I could hear voices talking, though neither of them were trying to keep quiet.

“—three fae’rn, one cat girl and one rat girl. I’ll give you a discount on the damaged one.”

“You roughing up the merchandise?”

“Nah, she came like that. Figure it’s some guys fantasy though, a woman who can’t talk back.”

I closed my eyes again. I knew freedom had been too good to be true.

The next time I woke it was morning again. I could hear the sounds of a city and cobblestones from beneath the wagon as it pulled to a stop. A pair of heavy boots hit the ground from the driver’s side. I sat up as the other women started to stir around me.

“Alright ladies,” said the driver as he came around to lower the wagon’s back gate. “Everybody out.”

The other women looked confused even as they complied; this was not the guard we’d been with when we’d left the slave mine. It seems only I had been awake to hear the situation the previous night.

The wagon was parked in an alleyway behind a large U shaped building. A bright red door opened as we were getting out and a smartly dressed man approached us, followed by two burly minotaurs. He too looked us up and down before exchanging a pouch of jangling coins with the wagon driver for a stack of papers. He thumbed through them, then dismissed the driver and turned back to us.

“Alright,” he began in a businesslike tone. “Your papers are now in the ownership of The Tower Club.”

“Papers?” interrupted the catlike merui woman. “You don’t understand, we were being held illegally. We’re not slaves.”

“That’s not what your papers say,” said the well-dressed man, flipping through them again. “Lifetime servitude, at owners discretion. Everything’s properly stamped and signed for.”

“No,” said the merui woman backing up, her eyes darting to the open end of the alley. “I’d only just tasted freedom, I’m not going back!”

She took off running, but while she was starved and exhausted from years of hard labour, the minotaur guards were at peak physical fitness. They caught her easily, pulling out rope and cloth to quickly bind and gag her. Dragging her back they stopped in front of the well-dressed man who gently patted her furry head and met her murderous gaze with a patient smile.

“Don’t worry kitten,” he said. “Once Master Joshua breaks you in, you’ll be the perfect obedient lady.”

As the minotaur dragged her through the red door, the man addressed the rest of us.

“I’m Gerald, the back door butler,” he said. “I manage the newcomers such as yourself. So if we’re all done with our tantrums, I think it’s time to go inside.”

The rear entry hall was part delivery reception, with signs pointing down halls to “Receiving” and “Storage”, and another part what felt like a holding cell at a prison. It was a T shaped room, laying sideways with the red door in the short side of the top part of the T, and the long part stretching off to the right. Along the left hand wall was a long reception desk, piled high with papers. At the far end there were two sets of stairs, one labelled “STAFF”, the other “Front Hall”. Another sign was pointing down the other side of the reception desk, to a hallway that I couldn’t see that read “Backstage”.

Floor to ceiling bars separated half the room into compartments, big enough for a small group of human sized people, most of them disappearing down the long side of the T, with a gap to walk down on the outside between the bars and the wall.

Gerald cleared his throat importantly and made us line up against the short stretch of wall just inside the door. He paced in front of us, looking us up and down, not unlike the guard had the previous day. As soon as he’d entered the room, he’d taken a clipboard from his desk, clipped the paperwork to it, and began making note.

“You’ll be best in the maid service and kitchen work, I think,” he said, pointing the end of his pen at the short mouse-like nezumi girl. “I’ll have someone come by and collect you later, so you can wait over there.”

He pointed to the cage at the front of the line. There was a long bench on the outside of it, and the nezumi girl didn’t hesitate to scamper over a take a seat. Given the circumstances, working in the club’s kitchen seemed like a mercy.

Gerald turned his attention to me, his lips pursed as he looked me over. Without warning he reached forward and grabbed the gentle swell of my breast, feeling the weight in his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. The initial touch had me gasp silently, having to squash the reflex to pull away.

“B,” he said scribbling something down in his notes and I felt my face flush red.

Tucking the clipboard under his arm, Gerald nudged my arms up and pressed his palms to the side of my chest, then slid them down following the contours of my waist and hips. He pulled away and wrote down some numbers.

As embarrassed as I was, some small part of me was impressed that he could gage someone’s measurements just by touching them.

Next he put his hand on my chin, turning my head this way and that as he examined my face closely. He paused at my neck then consulted his paperwork, pursing his lips in thought.

“Does it hurt to swallow?” he asked suddenly, throwing me off guard.

I shook my head, and he made a note of it.

“And eating and drinking, any problems?” he asked.

I gave a shrug. Water had never been a problem, but the dry crackers we’d sometimes been given instead of bread had always scraped on the way down. Anything dry or oddly shaped had to be softened in water before I could manage it. Without words though it was going to be hard to explain.

Gerald made a non-committal noise and made another note.

“We’ll have to test that at some point after your debut,” he said. “Sexual history?”

I could feel my face heating up. How could someone sound so cold and detached when asking someone something so personal. And what did he mean by debut?

“None, very well.” He made a final note then without a second glance at me moved onto the next in line.

“My name is Private Coral Seanin,” said the next woman, before Gerald could even open his mouth. Like me she was fae’rn, a head shorter than humans with long pointed ears. Her skin was a darker grey than mine though we had the same white hair. Where her eyes were icy blue I had been told mine were violet. “I am a member of the Gillrease Militia. I was captured—“

“Just your name is fine,” said Gerald grumpily. “Now, your sexual history—“

“—by the Havras forces during the battle at Corna’s gate. I am—“

“Are you a virgin?” demanded Gerald trying to talk over Coral’s recitation.

“—a Gillreasian citizen. My military number is 6136–“

“Really all this is quite unnecessary!”

“—54B. I am protected under the Treaty of Free Peoples signed in—“

Gerald threw up his hands in frustration.

“Clearly I’m going to get nothing of worth out of you. We’ll see you change your tune later after your training.”

He moved on to the third woman.

“We’re not legal slaves,” she said firmly, arms crossed over her chest.

“Not you to?” complained Gerald.

“We have been transported here illegally,” she continued. “Those papers are forgeries.”

“Now listen here,” said General whapping the shorter woman on the head with his clipboard. “You are in the city state of Viceris! We are a sovereign power, beholden to no foreign laws or treaties.” He held up the clipboard. “If an establishment of authority inside Viceris chooses to recognise a foreign seal’s validity, then it is valid.”

“So what you’re saying is, those are real papers, just because you say they are?”

“No,” said Gerald. “Your papers would have been looked over at the border crossing. The government authorities stationed there approved them.” He held up the paperwork and pointed to the small red stamp mark shaped like a sword piercing a coin. “This is our city’s seal. According to our laws, you,” he pointed at the fae’rn woman. “Belong to us.”

I looked down at my feet, my heart sinking. I had hoped somehow, the other women may have been able to explain our situation where I couldn’t, but it seemed either way it didn’t matter. I could feel tears prickling in the corner of my eyes, the tightness in my chest unbearable. I had been a slave as long as I could remember, but that one day my heart had swelled with the thought of freedom. A silent sob broke my throat, the only thing audible was my sniffing. My hands rose to cover my face as I cried.

“Now, now,” said Gerald, in a paradoxically sympathetic tone, as he hurried back to my side. “There’s no need for that.”

He gently pulled my hands away from my face, whipping my tears away with a careful swipe of his thumb. He examined my face, then made a confirming hum, before stepping back. Reaching for his wristwatch, he tapped a button on its side a few times, before adding some notes to his clip board.

A few minutes later three people descended the staff stairs. The one in front was a fae’rn man, short with long icy blue hair, and sapphire eyes. He was shirtless, baring a slender, gently toned chest, adorned with a number of long pendant necklaces. A pair of black leather pants, which may as well have been painted onto his body, hugged his legs and several studded belts hung loosely from his waist. He strode forward with purpose in a pair of heavy boots that came up nearly to his knees, flanked by two muscular human men who would have looked big next to any man, but looked like giants next to the short slender fae’rn.

“Ah, Master Joshua,” greeted Gerald with a respectful incline of his head. “I’m glad you came down so quickly.”

“I’m always happy to come and see the new comers,” said the blue haired man, his voice like rich chocolate at he looked us up and down. “So which one did you say needed some specialised care?”

“Thorn and Koin have already segregated her,” said Gerald, unclipping some papers from his clipboard and handing them over to Joshua. “You may tend to her at your leisure of course, but for now I think you should focus your time on this one.”

Gerald waved a hand in my direction, and suddenly it was like I was drowning in a storm tossed ocean as those sapphire eyes fixed in me. Their gaze was piercing, cutting, like the gemstone they resembled. After a moment they dropped to Gerald’s paperwork, the man thumbing through it and looking unimpressed.

“You think this one needs my particular brand of expertise?” he asked, sounding doubtful. He glanced up at me again. “I would think my methods would be a little, forceful for someone as delicate as her.”

“Quite the contrary,” said Gerald. “I think she will flourish under your hand. She only needs a little push out of the nest.”

“Is that so,” said Joshua, clearly still not convinced. He shrugged. “Very well, you have a gift with these things so I’ll trust you. But don’t blame me if this goes wrong and the little thing breaks.” He crooked a finger in my direction then turned, heading for the hallway that ran beside the cages. “Follow me.”

I glanced at the others nervously, but I really didn’t want to be left with the two large men and Gerald, so I walked quickly after him. We walked silently down the hallway. On the right wall was a row of doors, and halfway down one stood ajar. The walls here must have good soundproofing because it wasn’t until we were almost level with it that I heard anything at all. Water was running, and from the crack in the door I could see white tiles, so I could only assume it was some kind of bathroom.

I could hear voices, one high and desperate that I think was a woman and two deeper ones. There was a flash of golden fur, a sound of splashing water and hooves on the tiles and I suddenly realised who was in the room. It was the minotaurs and the merui woman they’d stopped from escaping.

“Don’t dawdle,” said Joshua sharply, making me jump.

He stopped a few doors further up and opened one, standing back and gesturing me in.

It was a bathroom as I has suspected, with shimmering tiles that wrapped the entire room, even on the ceiling. In the opposite corner to the door there was a large square tub set into the ground. It had a submerged ledge all the way around and a set of stairs leading into it from one corner. Straight ahead there was a stall with four showerheads and a long wooden bench attached to the wall.

On the same wall as the entrance there was a high padded table, several metal cabinets and what looked like a laundry hamper.

Joshua closed the door behind us and walked confidently into the room. He walked up to one of the cabinets, pulled opened a small draw and retrieved a pair of rubber gloves. As he passed the padded table he gave it a pat and addressed me.

“Strip down and sit up here.”

I froze and didn’t leave the corner with the door. I almost wanted to just rip it open and run back out into the hallway and see what that would get me but I didn’t dare.

I watched Joshua pull on the gloves, wincing at the snapping sound they made. He turned around and his eyes narrowed.

“When I give you an order,” he said softly, though there was a dangerous edge to his voice. “I expect it to be followed immediately. Now get over here.”

Shaking I slowly approached him and the table. I could feel his eyes burning into me like icy coals. When I reached the table he grabbed my arm.

“Your response should be _“Yes, Master Joshua,”_ he said.

I mouthed the words through trembling lips. His eyes narrowed again before his gloved fingers went to the scar on my throat. Most of the time I forgot it was there so to have so much attention being drawn towards it all at once it made me nervous.

“If you cannot vocalize your confirmation I will have to think of something else for you,” said Joshua releasing me. “Until then you will follow the instructions I have given you. Get out of those rags and lie down on the table.

My hands shook as I removed the ragged brown sack that had passed for clothes in the mine. Underwear had been an almost unknown luxury so my breasts were bare the moment the shirt was off. My face flushed as the master’s gaze immediately focused on them. Embarrassed I crossed my arms, but was quickly told to drop them.

“You will hide nothing from your master, understand?” said Joshua and all I could do was nod.

I hesitated with my pants, though he didn’t demand I hurry up. It was strange, because at the mine nudity had been no big deal. We slept together, we relieved ourselves together and occasionally we even bathed together when the slavers got tired of our smell, and no one battered an eye. But under this man’s gaze I already felt stripped, as though removing this last scrap of clothing wouldn’t simply bare my flesh but my soul as well. With trembling fingers I struggled with the knot of rope that kept the cloth trousers on my hips. Tears of frustration and fear sprung to my eyes as I feared my delay would eventually trigger anger in the man who watched me.

The master stepped forward suddenly making me flinch. He flipped a small knife from his pocket and in one swipe cut the make-shift belt from my body. Without the rope the pants were far too big for my slim hips, sliding easily off to pool on the floor. It was all I could do to stop from covering myself reflexively.

There was a little set of stairs under the table which Joshua dragged out so I could step up onto the table. His eyes were still roving over my body, whichever way I turned. He slapped the padding with his hands again, instructing me to lie down. I did so, lying on my back with my hand clasped nervous on my stomach. At his man-handling he moved me down the table, so my bottom was almost at the edge, and had me bend my legs and keep my feet flat on the cushion.

He pulled up a stool at the end of the table, and I couldn’t help covering my face with my hands in mortified embarrassment. I jumped at the touch of his gloved fingers on my legs, gripping my thigh on one side while the other slid up higher. In an almost clinical way he parted me, and the thought of his intense gaze on such a private area had my body heating up.

“So you’re a virgin?” he asked, looking up between my legs so he could watch my reaction. I peeked through my fingers at him and nodded. “How old are you?”

I gave an unsure shrug of my shoulders. I had been a slave for as long as I could remember and the mine was hardly a place to celebrate a birthday even if you knew when it was.

“Can you guess?” he asked.

I held up ten fingers, then seven, eight and nine in sequence.

“You think you’re somewhere between seventeen and nineteen?” asked Joshua and I nodded. He looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose it doesn’t matter in the long run. Have you had any sexual contact at all? Have you been kissed?” I nodded. “Often?” I shook my head. “Oral sex? Grinding?” I felt like my face would catch fire so I hid behind my hands again.

He returned his fingers to me, feeling around my folds. He pulled back the hood on my clit and gave the exposed bundle of nerves a swipe with his thumb. There was a little spark at his touch, which made my hips switch. He pressed the tip of his pinky finger into my entrance. He nudged something that made me wince and immediately withdrew his hands.

“Alright,” he said, getting up from his stool and depositing his gloves in the trash. “You can get up now.”

I swung my legs off the table and stood, watching as the master went over to the shower and turned on two of the faucets. He gestured me over to get under the spray. It was like heaven had come to me. When we washed at the mine, it was cold water out of a hose, just enough to get the smell of dirt and sweat off, and then more often than not we were getting back into our old clothes anyway, so you only ever had seconds to actually feel clean.   

Here the water was warm, steam rising quickly under my feet and the pressure of it beating down on my tired body, soothed sore muscles.

The master put on another pair of gloves, these ones textured like some kind of towel, then poured some sweet scented soap. Rubbing the gloves together quickly giving him a good lather, then motioned me to stand at the edge of the spray so he wouldn’t get wet.

He ran his gloved hands over me, starting with my shoulders and arms, and slowly moving down my back. The water ran brown as he scrubbed, letting me see my skin tone for the first time in a long while. My arms, legs and face were heavily tanned from the harsh sun at the mine, turning my skin a darker grey, but looking down at my belly I couldn’t help but think _‘Am I really that pale’?_

The master seemed to notice this as well, making small talk as he washed me.

“It must be nice to finally get all this off,” he said, having to stop ever now and then to rinse the gloves and apply more soap. “You have a nice naturally pale tone, though the sun damage and tan lines do you no favours. Some cream and time indoors will do you well I think. Now don’t be like that.”

I’d pulled away reflexively as the rough material of the glove slipped between my legs. The master pulled me back, his fingers working between my folds to clean properly not seeming to care about the spark he was causing when his fingers scrubbed over my clit. After a little while he slowed down, moving his fingers in gentle circles. I shook my head and tried to pull away. In response he grabbed me under the thigh, lifting my leg and pushing me forward, causing me to flail and catch myself on the tiled wall with both hands. Now I was stuck, off balance with one leg out behind me, and unable to move my arms from the wall or risk falling over.

The master quickly slipped his glove fingers back between my now spread legs, focusing his attention on my clit.

“If I deign to give you pleasure,” he said softly, a dark note crawling into his voice. “Then you shall accept it. Gratefully.”

I had no choice but to hold onto the wall, teetering precariously, my legs trembling as he worked his fingers over my most sensitive places. The rough material of the glove enhanced the feeling of his touch, but all too quickly it became too much to bare. My pants and gasps were drowned out by the sound of the shower, but the master seemed to sense without needing verbal cues, exactly where and when to shift his fingers in order to turn my limbs to jelly.

I’d never felt anything like this before. It was nothing like my own fingers, secret touches made under cover of darkness and a filthy threadbare blanket, the fear of being caught by the guards, and being made the new target of their unwanted advances, dampening any possibly enjoyment.

My arms were shaking with the strain of holding me up, so I let my chest rest against the cool tiles, the position unwittingly pushing my rear higher into the master’s hands. The finger on my clit moved more firmly in response, his thumb sliding back to teasingly poke at my entrance. I groaned silently, my hips twitching under his ministrations. The heat was rising fast, despite my frustration at being forced into this position. I wanted to cum, and yet, I didn’t want to.

“It’s alright,” the master said, as though he’d plucked the thoughts from my mind. “You have my permission to let go.”

I’d spent almost my entire life following orders, snapping to attention at the slightest instruction, slaving away under another person’s will, and it seemed my body had been trained well, even if this scenario was completely new.

I gasped against the tiled wall, my opening twitching against the master’s teasing finger as I came. He kept moving his fingers, long after I was done, making me want to pull back as my body switched from pleasure to oversensitivity.

“You’re finished, only when I say you are,” said the master softly.

Eventually he did finish with me, slowly lowering my leg back to the floor and pulling back to rinse the gloves. While he was doing that my hands went to check myself, the tender flesh a bit red from his enthusiasm.

“Make sure you rinse all the soap off,” he instructed, talking like he had not just molested me to orgasm, scrubbing his gloved hands together until the water ran clear before grabbing a bottle of shampoo.

Shyly I held out my hand for it, wanting to do it myself, but he just shook his head and twirling his fingers instructing me to turn around.

I obeyed and he threaded his hands through my wet hair, working up a good lather. I don’t remember ever being able to clean my hair properly before, having to just put up with lifeless oily strands hanging in my face. More dirt was washing away, my hair going back to its proper white instead of the stained yellow it had been for so long. After that he put in conditioner and then spent several minutes working it through my hair and massaging my scalp before he let me rinse it out. One more clean of his gloves, and he turned the water onto a cooler temperate for me to rinse the sweat from the steam, then turned it off.

He took the gloves off, squeezed them out and put them away before covering me in an over-sized fluffy towel. He dried me off with brisk, efficient movements, his hands never lingering longer than required.

From the big cabinet he produced a knee-length white robe and let me get dressed. He hadn’t given me any underwear, but I was used to going without and so didn’t ask for any.

He watched me dress with his hands on his hips.

“You’re more docile than I was expecting,” he said then elaborated in response to the confused expression on my face. “Like with training a horse, sometimes you have to break a person in before they become suited to this environment. I am usually called in to manage that process, but I think, just as you are, you will do well here.”

As I followed him out of the bathroom, I didn’t know whether I should take what he said as a compliment or not. Though I understood where I was, and what would eventually be required of me, the specifics were still unknown. What was this debut they had been talking about? It sounded like they wanted me in some kind of show. In any case, with nowhere else to go, this club would become my home. Though the future loomed ahead of me in quite a frightening way, I hoped I would eventually find something to enjoy about my new life.


	5. Pen Pal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: A woman, obsessed with the Tower Club, signs up to an erotic pen pal service the club offers. All she wants to know is what the Tower is like, but as their correspondence continues, her pen pal asks to meet her in person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: None  
> Tags: virgin, sexual fantasies, erotic pen pal, meeting a stranger, no sex, world building

I’d always been fascinated by the Tower Club, even as a young girl. Of course back then I had no idea what went on within those white brick walls. All I knew was the building was big and shiny, with high towers at its corners making it look, to me at least, like a princess’s castle.

When I was 12, one of the girls at my school had whispered conspiratorially to me, “That’s the place where the sex happens!” Neither of us knew what that meant at the time, only that that’s what her father would always say about it.

As I grew older and eventually found out what sex meant, my obsession with the place did not wane. What was it like on the inside? Who were the people that worked there? How did such a place come to be? Why? I wanted to know everything.

Of course that was easier said than done for an elite club designed to accommodate the outrageous requests of the aristocracy and the uber-wealthy. As I was neither, there seemed little chance of ever getting inside.

There was a front entrance of course, several in fact, so technically you could just walk in. But whether you were visiting the casino, the five-star restaurant, the hotel or the theatre, the place had no shortage of bouncers ready to expel the riff-raff.

I’d considered going to the casino a couple of times, because it was open to everyone and there was no entrance fee. Apart from the staggeringly large jackpots on offer, you could also cash in chips for seats at the theatre and even some private shows. But as with all things, gambling takes money and I was worried that if I was just wandering around and not actively betting I might get asked to leave.

I had even briefly thought of applying to work there, and if not for the _‘at request’_ clause in the contract, I may have done so. Basically anyone who worked there, regardless of what department, was to be available for patrons at request to help fulfil their fantasies. The application forms said it was unlikely and I was hardly a looker, but I couldn’t take the risk a guest would see me somewhere and demand that kind of thing from me.

I sighed, idly stirring my iced-tea at the café directly across from the Tower Club’s main entrance. It was a nice little place, with mismatched furniture, an open fireplace, that burned magically cold in the summer months, and a book trading shelf that ran, pretty successfully, on the honour system.

I was sitting out the front at a small table, idling twirling a paper umbrella around my drink. Next to my saucer was the most recent letter from my Tower pen-pal. Well, I say pen pal, but could you really call it such when you were paying for the privilege?

Erotic pen pals were just one of the _many_ strange and wonderful services the Tower offered. For a more reasonable price – though certainly not cheap – than attending a show in person, you could sign up to a monthly subscription service that would pair you with someone at the Tower, allowing you to chat back and forth about whatever you wanted. Pictures costed extra.

Of course I wasn’t naive, I knew the regular performers wouldn’t be writing these letters, not at the base package price anyway, but I just wanted to talk to someone who worked there, who could share their experience with me.

I suspected my pen pale worked somewhere in administration, because at my questions about day-to-day life at the Tower, they’d responded with talk about managing employee applications and plans for upcoming shows, no names of course, but I drank up the little titbits.

Over time they got more detailed, as though they’d started to trust that my intentions were pure curiosity and not, I don’t know, some kind of attempt at industrial espionage. Then, they started asking questions in return. Subtle ones at first, how long had I been interested in the club, how often had I visited etc. I answered honestly, and the questions became more detailed. Our letters became very strange, transforming almost overnight into an equal tit-for-tat, I’ll answer yours, if you answer mine. The pen pal’s questions were a great deal more personal than mine, asking about my interest in the club, and my personal fantasies related to it. There was something exciting about putting my thoughts in writing with someone who seemed to understand, so I continued with it.

 

_‘What is an average day like at the Tower?’_

The cleaning staff starts early, around 4AM, in order to prepare the public areas for new guests. Though some areas run all day, like the clubs and the casino, they are empty enough by 6AM to get everything finished. The kitchen runs a skeleton crew from 10PM to manage the room service, but their day starts at 4AM as well, to get ready for the buffet breakfast which is served from 6:30 to 8:30. Morning tea is at 10AM. The formal restaurant opens for lunch at 12PM, and the informal buffet runs from 12PM to 2PM. Afternoon tea is at 3:30PM. Formal dinner is at 7PM, but the buffet runs from 5:30 to 8PM. Supper is served at 9PM, before the kitchen reverts back to room service only.

Room service runs 24/7, and includes more than just kitchen orders. If it’s provided at the Tower in general, it can be brought to a guest’s room. The casino and the club also run all hours however the theatre shows finish their schedule by 12AM, and don’t have their first show until 1PM. We rarely have shows in the early morning.

The planned events vary enough each day to keep things interesting for long staying guests, which we accommodate in 1200 regular rooms and suits, and a further 200 special themed rooms.

Our full show and event schedule is displayed in the foyer.

**‘What was your first fantasy about the Tower Club?’**

My first fantasy was when I was still too young to truly understand my own interest. I would imagine myself visiting the Tower and becoming friends with the princess I was convinced lived inside.

When I was old enough to understand, I would fantasise about meeting the performers, and asking them about all manner of things I’d heard about. The idea that there was an expert somewhere who could answer all my questions, was very comforting to me when I was younger.

_‘How do you hire new performers?’_

We have a lot of applications from people wishing to engage in intimate activities for money. As you might imagine we get more males applying than females, so we have to be very strict with the application requirements. Most applicants don’t get beyond the initial submission.

Those that do, must pass a physical fitness exam, and submit to a one-on-one interview with the Tower’s director. He then decides where the applicant will be most suited, and sets up their debut performance. Applicants remain on probation until after their debut, the results of which are used to decide whether or not they are suited to continued employment. Details about specific employees are confidential of course, so please understand that I cannot go into too much detail.

 

**‘Have you ever visited the Tower? If so, tell me about your experience.’**

For my 18th birthday, some of my friends arranged for my party to be held at the nightclub, because they knew how crazy I was about the place.

The club had all the usual things of course, dancefloor, full bar – I really liked the complimentary finger food platters actually – and dining booths on the upper balcony if you wanted something more substantial. But that really only scratched the surface. You mentioned in an earlier letter that the club is open 24/7, but between 12 and 6am, things got really dirty. I knew it would to some extent, but I was surprised by how much given that it’s open to the general public.  

Clothing suddenly became optional for the guests, and special dancers were brought in from the main building to strip and dance naked in cages hung from the ceiling. You could walk right under the cages, look up and see everything. Some of my friends took full advantage of it, though the price to take one of the dancers away for the night was a bit much for us.

We never ended up taking our clothes off, I think it was a bit too much, too fast, but I enjoyed sitting at our booth and watching the dancefloor. It got to a point where you couldn’t tell the performers and the guests apart anymore. We left around 2AM, but even so it’s a night that will stay imbedded in my mind forever.

 

_‘What’s the hotel like? What kinds of rooms does it have?’_

As mentioned in a previous letter the hotel has 1200 regular rooms, including larger suites and around 200 themed rooms, for special requests and events. These range in size, accommodating singles, couples and larger groups. You’d be surprised how many business bookings we get for the larger themed rooms. Again I can’t reveal any client details.

As our performers are very diverse culturally, a number of the themed rooms are designed to match their cultural heritage, allowing guests to pretend they’re traveling to faraway places and having exotic encounters with locals. Theme appropriate food, music and costumes for guests to wear are also provided.

The regular rooms are graded with a star rating based on their size, design and the complimentary services they provide.  Special services can include a larger bathroom with pool baths, stages for private performances, a wider arrangement of room service items and a 24/h room companion. All rooms come with housekeeping, and general room service.

 

**‘What would you most want to see if you became a guest at the Tower?’**

It’s hard to say. While I enjoyed the club, I’m not really interested in the casino or the restaurants. I’ve thought about going to see the shows, but I don’t really know if that would be for me either. It might sound strange but I just want to be able to walk the halls and talk to people. I considered applying for a job once I graduated from school, but I eventually decided against it. I don’t want to be one of the performers, or end up in a situation where I have to become one.

 

_‘What’s your job like?’_

I have a great many responsibilities at the Tower. Too many too list in a single letter.

 

**‘Would you be willing to meet me in person?’**

. . .

 

And so here I was, sitting outside the café waiting for my erotic pen pal to meet me. I had no idea who they were, or what they’d be like in real like. All I knew is that they’d be wearing a red tie, so I would know it would be them. In exchange I was wearing a flowery headband.

Though they weren’t yet late, I was starting to become nervous, my leg bouncing without my permission under the table. My eyes wandered the crowds, the streets around the Tower lined with popular eateries and fancy shops, wondering if any of these people were my pen pal.

The clack of polished shoes on the brick footpath right near my table made me jump. I’d been looking in every direction since I sat down, how had anyone managed to get so close without me noticing? I looked up, right into the burgundy gaze of a strikingly handsome young man.

“You must be Erica,” he greeted, his voice as soft as silk. I nodded, struck dumb by his appearance. He held out a hand for me to shake and I took it. “I’m Richard Dryder.”

“Pleasure,” I managed to stammer.

This man, who to me looked as though he’d been carved personally by the hands of the gods, was the complete opposite of anything I’d been expecting.

He was quite tall, pale and dressed in an expensive three piece suit, with a dark red waist coat, his long jacket hanging off his shoulders. He wore his long dark hair back in a ponytail and when he smiled at me, it was almost dazzling.

“You’re nervous,” he stated, hooking his gold topped cane on the edge of the table. He shrugged off his jacket in a fluid motion, hanging it on the back of the chair before sitting down across from me.

I was sure there must be people staring. How could an average girl like me, be sitting with someone like this?

“Sorry,” I heard myself apologise. “I wasn’t expecting…”

How was I supposed to explain that I was expecting some fat pervert, or even an older female office worker, not this catwalk ready model?

I was saved from putting my foot in my mouth by one of the waitresses coming around and taking his order of a black coffee, sweetened with a rich dark chocolate. I found myself silently watching him sip his drink once it arrived, eyes closed in enjoyment, his long dark lashes contrasting against his pale skin.

“So,” he said after a while, setting his cup down with a clink on its saucer. “What made you sign up to our letter service?”

“I just wanted to talk to someone who worked at the Tower,” I explained.

“Surely you could find an employee, ah, in the wild as it were?”

“It’s not a very nice thing to experience though is it?” I replied. “Having someone try to befriend you for ulterior motives?”

“No, I suppose not,” said Richard, taking another sip on his coffee. He put it down and reached into his jacket to pull out a pack of folded papers, which he slid across the table at me. “I’d like to hire you to work at the Tower.”

I picked up the paperwork, but the denial was already on my tongue.

“I already said I wasn’t interested in working there.”

“You’re not interested in being a whore,” said Richard plainly. He looked me up and down. “And honestly, I don’t think you’d be suited to the erotic lifestyle regardless.”

I really wasn’t sure whether I should take that kind of comment as a compliment or not. On one hand it would suggest that I didn’t look like a prostitute, which was nice, I suppose, but would also suggest that if I had been wanting to apply, I wouldn’t have passed muster.

“Then what do you want me for?” I asked.

“I’m looking for a secretary,” Richard replied, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. “Someone who can act as my eyes and ears around the Tower, when I am otherwise indisposed with my own responsibilities. Your main duties, aside from general appointment management, will be to explore the facilities and carry out inspections of services and personnel. You will report directly to me and me alone, and as far as the rest of the employees are concerned your instructions may as well have come from me. Of course, to maintain that authority, you will not be subject to the _‘at request’_ clause of the employment contract.”

I was silent for a long while after he finished his explanation. While he finished his coffee I read the paperwork he’d passed me. It was an employment contract outlying my duties in detail, and the various clauses I would have to agree to as an employee. I had read these before when I had looked up general job application for the Tower, and while the strict confidentiality requirements were still present, the _‘at request’_ clause had been very obviously redacted.

“Why do you think I would be suitable for this position?” I asked, choosing my words carefully.

“The main reason is your passion for the company,” said Richard plainly. “The Tower and its workings fascinate you, and I want that kind of eagle eye overseeing things. I have no doubt, that if you had the resources, you would have become a regular patron a long time ago. Am I wrong?” My silence was enough of an answer. Richard nodded, his smile satisfied. “There’s also your several years of experience working front reception and office management at the Costialico Hotel, so you also have the professional skill the job requires.”

My mouth flopped silently for a moment like a stunned fish. How did this man know where I worked? My shocked expression made his smile widen, and a cold feeling slid down my spine. I had been dazzled earlier by his good looks and smooth voice, but now, something about him warned of danger.

“I always make sure to research the talent I scout,” he said. “So? Would you like to come and see your workplace before making a decision?”

And so that’s how I found myself following my pen pal through the large double doors of the Tower’s main entrance. The white marble floors sparkled from thousands of embedded multi-coloured gemstones. The walls were papered with gold and silver silk, and six crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The bouncers and front desk staff bowed to Richard as we entered, and I realised he must be very high up in the company if they were greeting him so formally.

He walked through with purpose, his shoes making imposing snapping sounds on the hard floor, and all I could do was scramble after him. For someone that would be expected to evaluate her fellow workers with some level of authority, I was doing a poor job at a first impression.

On the left wall there was a pair of black silk padded doors. Richard gestured to them as we passed.

“They lead to the club, of which you are already familiar,” he explained, then gestured to the right wall. Just past the reception desk, was another set of doors. These were wide open, revealing a hallway wallpapered in red, black and white. The carpet was red as well, with a border in alternating black and white, and I could see the symbols for cards suits emblazoned upon them. “And those lead to the casino. Above us are the hotel rooms, but we’d be here all day if I were to show you them all. Perhaps another time.”

With that enticing suggestion, he continued on to the end of the hall, were a large staircase lead up to the mezzanine floor. It curved out to the sides, splitting into two staircases, before coming together again at the top. It was carpeted in a deep gold that slowly lightened to a bright sunny yellow at the top. In the space between the two staircases there was a marble statue of a beautiful woman with large leathery wings and smooth curled horns poking through her hair. She gazed down at the ground through lidded eyes, clutching a long sheet to her chest with one hand and threading her fingers through her fringe with the other. The base of the statue sat in a pool of water, which was filled with gold and silver coins.

Behind the statue I could see another pair of double doors, these ones reaching nearly to the ceiling. They too were thrown open, revealing a long hallway. Doors lined the hall and between them there were illuminated posters.

“The theatres,” Richard explained. “The Grand Theatre is at the far end and can sit 2500, with a dining floor and two balconies. The others are smaller and cater to specific interests, entertaining anywhere between 100-500 seats. If you’d like I can arrange tickets for you this evening. We have a debut performance you may be interested in.”

Without waiting for me to answer he lead me to the side behind the left staircase, where there was a narrower, simpler set of wooden stairs leading down. I had a brief look at the back entrance reception and a man in a smart suit signing for a stack of large crates before being led straight up another set of stairs.

It was quieter here, removed from the bustle of the rest of the building. The hallway was wide, with windows all along one side, overlooking one of the streets around the Tower, and the shops and cafes on the other side.

A row of offices faced the windows, the walls and doors panelled with dark wood. Shiny brass nameplates announced the owners of each office, encapsulating every level of the Tower’s running, from the hotel’s general manager, the director for the guest baths, the event’s organiser, various people with the title of Master or Mistress, and more. At the end of the hallway, before a grander pair of oak doors, there was a waiting room and an empty desk piled high with papers and packages. There was a little name plate in a free corner, but I didn’t even get to see what it said before Richard snatched it up and tossed it into a waste bin with a loud clang. He spun around to face me and slapped a hand down onto the desk I was looking at with not a small amount of trepidation.

“This will be your workspace,” he said. “The position has been unfilled for a few weeks, so things have piled up. I can assure you, you won’t have this much to manage every day.”

I nodded dumbly, having no idea what I was supposed to say to any of this. The entire time we’d been walking my head had been swivelling around to look at everything so fast you’d think it would have spun right off my shoulders. I felt so overwhelmed, as though I had stepped through some portal to another world. As my eyes roamed around the little waiting area, taking in the pot plants and the empty aquarium, my gaze landed on the nameplate for the final office.

**Lord Adrian Ryder – Tower Director**

I looked between Richard and the door. If this was my workplace, and he had said I was to be _his_ secretary, then this would be his office. My stunned expression must have been very amusing because a smile spread across the man’s face.

“I avoid using my real name in public,” said Richard, though I suppose I should being thinking of him as Lord Ryder. “Being a Lord offers certain challenges and after all, I didn’t know before I sat down to speak with you, whether or not I would actually go through with the job offer.”

“Do you often participate in erotic letter writing?” I asked. I wasn’t sure whether to be angry with the situation or not. Lord Ryder laughed.

“No,” he said. “But your initial request was so strange you rather confused the pen pals. Even their supervisors couldn’t figure out what to make of your request, and it just kept getting passed higher for confirmation before finally landing on my desk. I was intrigued, I must admit, by your enthusiasm, not for any kind of sexual gratification but for my company. I decided to give you a chance to prove yourself.”

“Prove myself?” I asked. “For what?”

“As someone I could trust to help me with the Tower,” said Lord Ryder. “I need someone who has the same kind of passion about it as I do. Someone who will see their work as more than just any other job, and more importantly, someone who’s not afraid to speak their mind and suggest improvements. I think you can be that person. Do you?”

I looked around the room again, feeling nervous but excited at the same time. I met Lord Ryder’s gaze determinedly.

“I do.”      


	6. The Master’s Journal: Week 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Ryder keeps a journal of his day-to-day activities at the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: None  
> Tags: world building, no sex

_8 th Diga_

**Morning**

Katheryn has left, this time I think for good. As good a paper-worker she was, she just wasn’t cut out for the other duties required of my secretary. I doubt there will be many here that will miss her presence, though she really brought it upon herself, with the manner in which she held herself around her co-workers. Katheryn regularly belittled the entertainers, spoke without respect to the Masters and treated the general staff as common servants, then wondered in earnest why she garnered no respect from those she was supposed to be overseeing. I don’t know where I’ll find a suitable replacement; I already have a few ideas though I doubt they’ll leave their current positions. For the moment I will have to increase my own workload and deal with the secretarial duties myself.

**Evening**

I’ve taken on a client in the pen pal program. Their interests lie in the Tower as an organisation rather than any specific kink. So far their interest seems pure but I will have to follow this closely to be sure they don’t work for a rival club.

 

_9 th Diga_

**Morning**

Apparently we’ve been dealing with a shellfish shortage because of the weather on the bay over the last month, so we’ve been importing from the north. Had no idea. Other things I had no idea of? Some kids been skipping on his casino debts and somehow keeps getting back in again every week to rack up some more. The east wing on the third floor has been getting a makeover and the designers we hired can’t agree on wallpaper. _Violently_ can’t agree apparently. There’s a stack of requests on my desk now from some of our more eccentric clients, which may take me a little while to get to.

I’m starting to think I don’t appreciate my secretaries enough. When I find a suitable replacement, I may make it a department rather than have a single person handle it.

**Evening**

I had two interviews this afternoon, both successful. Alison will do fine without a mentor due to her past experience. Cason will need to be handled carefully however. He’ll need a firm but understanding hand. I’m confident he can become a good stage sub even if he doesn’t live the lifestyle every day. I’ve already got some thoughts as to whom he would do well to be trained by, but I may have to ease him into it. I worry there might still be some hesitance with him working with other men. We shall see how it goes.

 

_10 th Diga_

**Morning**

There have been some problems with the new back reception butler. He has been sourcing our new talent through less than scrupulous individuals and his explanations so far have not been satisfactory. I will be transferring talent scouting responsibilities to another department for the time being. I may have to discipline him for this behaviour, if I decide to even keep him on.

I will need to make a note for some kind of meeting with scouters in order to address acceptable procedures, including our policies under which specific cases we take on slave debts. It’s important they understand we only manage work repayment plans by debtors who sign themselves up. We do not take in slaves from foreign countries, regardless of local laws. The Tower has a decent reputation in these matters. I don’t want it tarnished.

I’ll make a note for my secretary, when I get a new one.

**Evening**

I have discussed options with the young women brought in under the fraudulent slave certificates. They have agreed to pay out the debt I have accrued from their purchase through work that suits them in exchange I will use my resources to out the guard who betrayed them after their rescue in Gillrease. It shouldn’t be a difficult task.

Three of them have chosen to work as general staff in the kitchens, and while I expected that, it surprised me more that one of them decided to continue on as a performer. Their logic was that performers get paid more, and while that is certainly true, their attitude towards the situation is interesting. If I’m lucky, and they enjoy their debut, they may just decide to stay on as a paid employee after their debt is struck off. I’ll have to keep an eye on them, and do my best to ensure they have a positive opinion of their place at the Tower.

 

_11 th Diga_

**Morning**

My pen pal is fascinating. They’ve been interested in the Tower’s workings since childhood, but it seems in a completely non-sexual manner. They don’t appear interested in working here, but I will find time to ask. I could use someone this passionate.

**Evening**

More applications to work through today. Usually my secretary will narrow them down beforehand, but without one I’m having to do it myself. There are a few promising candidates that I would like to bring in for an interview, but there’s also a lot of chaff too sort through. It’s shocking to me that there are so many men out there that truly believe all they need is a functioning penis to work as a performer in this industry. Even the lesser clubs wouldn’t look twice at some of these.

 

_12 th Diga_

**Morning**

We’ve started making preparations for the 19th next week. It’s the anniversary of the First Convention of Mystics so we’ll have general celebrations in the hotel and in the grand hall, which expects to fill roughly a thousand seats each for both a lunch and a dinner.

It also means we’ll be getting a lot of private bookings from local sorcerer groups and the like, for hotel suites, theatre shows and the like. Magic users tend to be a bit, eccentric in their interests and we’ve had some peculiar requests in years past. They pay well though so we always open our doors to them.

**Evening**

I’ve managed to sort out the issue between the decorators. It’s surprising how quickly they agree to compromise and work together when you threaten to get someone else to do it, or worse decide on the colours yourself. They don’t think much of my decorating taste now and seem committed to protecting me from myself, but I only picked the stripes in the first place because I knew how much they both didn’t want them.

I’ve looked into it, but the issue with the shellfish is out of my hands, we’ll just have to keep importing until the weather in the bay clears up. I might pass a suggestion to the city council about hiring a weather mage. I realise they aren’t cheap, but a good deal of the city’s food comes from the bay, so it’s not like the Tower is the only one to benefit.

 

_13 thDiga_

**Morning**

I spent my free morning at home this week. Sometimes it’s nice to just have a lie in and read a book over morning tea. I hope Marcus didn’t miss me too much. Besides the Tower, I believe the Night Court is one of the better clubs on the Central Continent and it’s nice to have their director as an industry friend.

**Evening**

Alison had her debut performance today. Stage 2S; a _‘virginity loss’_ scene with a minotaur. As expected she took the larger size with ease and seems to have a serious size kink. I will have to make a note of that and arrange for more extreme encounters for her. I’m rather curious about what her limits are. So are some of our clients, going by the performance’s feedback. Looks like Alison is going to get very popular, very quickly.

 

_14 th Diga_

**Morning**

I have found a new secretary. My pen pal was easily convinced once we met in person and I gave her a short tour of the main building. She was initially dazzled but I think she will settle in quickly once she has a chance to explore. Her first duty is to manage her predecessor’s leftovers which may take her a little while. I’ll need to keep my schedule open to show her the ropes.

**Evening**

Cason’s debut was a little rocky to say the least. As I suspected he had a nervous reaction to the idea of being seen engaging with men, especially in a submissive position. I’m glad I paired him with Master Gabriel, he’s more than enough to temper even the strongest will. Fortunately the audience seemed to enjoy Cason’s initial reluctance and eventual submission. This may be Cason’s niche whether or not he improves his attitude towards homosexual behaviour. So far Cason has not given any suggestion that he wishes to quit so I will continue with my plans for him.


	7. Nina Loses Pt. 2: Black Mane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An abridged version of Nina’s encounter with the black mane from my other story "Nina’s World Tour." This is an AU scenario where Nina loses her bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Male Merui (anthro cat) X Female Human  
> Tags: vaginal sex, interspecies sex, pregnancy risk sex, no birth control

Nina arrived in the town of Kharu on the Eastern Continent, with her bodyguard Risk as her side, passing through a pair of large stone pillared gates guarded by a pair of merui, the native people of Nyuesi.

They were taller on average than humans, though they weren’t giants. Their bodies were covered in soft fur ranging in shade from soft cream, through various tans and browns to the occasional black. Their cat-like faces had piercing eyes in bright colours, with oval pupils.

While the women were fairly slender, with wide hips and modest chests, the men had broad shoulders, thin waists and powerful back digitigrade legs. Unlike the women the men also had impressive manes, usually a shade or two darker than the rest of their body, and occasionally streaked with different much darker colours.

Both guards had dark fur and long black manes. They had no shirts or pants though Nina supposed in the hot weather of Nyuesi heavy clothing on top of thick fur would be a recipe for disaster. Most women wore sheer silks in various colours, with a thin strip around their chests and long skirts. Men wore even less. The guards at the gate wore only a black leather belt with golden accents, and a long loincloth embroidered with the sigil of the city.

“Black manes,” whispered Nina after they had passed through the gate.

“Yeah,” said Risk. “Most guards are.”

The middle kingdom of Miraba operated under a loose caste system based on the colour of one’s fur, with lighter colours on the bottom and blacks at the very top. Paradoxically albino or white furred women served as priestesses and were some of the most powerful individuals in Miraba society.

Pulling a map from his bag Risk led them through the quiet market streets to a bathhouse inn just off the main road that was popular with both tourists and locals. The dinner rush was in full swing when they arrived. Wooden tables with benches for seating were scattered around the room. Silk drapes hung over the windows and candles burned in brackets on the walls.

Instead of an open fireplace, useless in a country that was warm all year round, there was an artificial waterfall built into one wall, the cold rushing water both cooling the room and providing a pleasant background sound. Water was life in Nyuesi, and fountains were everywhere both outside and in.

While Risk went up to the barmen’s counter to book them a room for the evening, Nina let her gaze wander around the room. She’d see merui before, they were a minority in her home country, but not so much so that you’d never see one if you walked down the street of the major cities. But seeing so many so close, it was a little exciting. The women were beautiful and elegant, but the men, the men were impressive. Even just sitting around an inn and having a drink they had a presence about them.

Risk returned shortly and they took some seats at a corner table.

Across from them, at one of the larger tables, there was a black mane. His empty dinner plate was in front of him and he had his chin balanced on his folded hands, the furrowing of his brows suggesting he was deep in thought.

“You’re going to try and seduce a black mane?” asked Risk raising an eyebrow. “They’re top of the food chain.”

“I know,” said Nina standing. “If I’m going to lay with a merui, I’m going to have the best.”

She walked over to the table. The black mane’s eyes slid over to her and he gave a nod indicating she could speak with him. Nina gave a nervous smile, reaching up to twirl a lock of her hair around a finger.

“I’m new in Kharu,” she said. “Just got off the boat.”

The black mane didn’t respond, though he didn’t take his eyes off her.

“I was wondering,” she continued. “If you’d be interested in showing me around, or telling me about your city.”

“Why me?” the black mane eventually asked.

“I’ve heard a lot of black manes,” she said honestly, giving him a coy smile. “I’m rather curious about how many of the stories are true.”

The black mane looked her up and down. She was wearing a dress with a skirt that only reached her knees. The cut of the collar was a little more conservative but it kept her arms bare. There was a pause before a small smirk spread across his face.

“Naughty girl,” he said softly.

The merui was sitting on the very end of the bench, so he shifted the leg closest to her, turning to face her completely, his legs spread to frame the bench while leaving an elbow on the table. Nina didn’t bother to hide the way her eyes went to the man’s crotch.

“Again, I have to ask,” said the merui. “If you’ve heard about us, why would you approach me?”

“Well,” said Nina deciding to be bold. “I figured, if I was going to have something, I should have the best.”

The black mane gave a growling laugh.

“You wouldn’t be the first human women to travel and get her slit wet over the idea of being taken by a beast,” he said. “And you won’t be the first who realized she can’t take it.”

“I think I can,” said Nina.

“You say that,” said the black mane. “But it’s clear to me you have no idea what you’re getting into.”

Nina leant down putting her cleavage level with the merui’s face.

“I’m confident I can handle it,” she said.

The black mane’s nose twitched and he sniffed her, or rather he breathed in through his nose in her direction. His eyes widened slightly before his smirk spread into a full grin.

“You _are_ a naughty girl,” he said, a sparkle entering his eyes. “A reckless girl.”

Nina smiled when she realised what the black mane had smelled on her. His nose had picked apart her scent and detected her fertility. She wasn’t going to deny it, besides, going by his expression, the black mane was hardly put off by the idea. Quite the contrary he seemed excited by it.

“What can I say?” she said. “It’s exactly as you say. I’m a naughty girl.”

The black mane stood from the table, towering over her by at least a foot. He wrapped a muscular furry arm around her slender waist and guided her upstairs. They passed through the common room, going up to the third floor where the private rooms were. The black mane walked down the hall confidently, with Nina at his side, stopping before one of the rooms. He brushed aside the silk curtains that covered the door and let them inside.

The private room was cosy, but sparsely decorated. There was a wide oval bed with a high curved backboard, laid with satin sheets, plush pillows and no blankets. A sheer curtain hung behind it, spanning the entire length of the room, and behind it Nina could make out a tiled floor and a standing marble tub.

The black mane turned to face her and cupped her cheek in one large paw.

“It’s not often I smell a human woman like you anymore,” he said.

“Oh?” asked Nina.

“Most women smell like asami nowadays,” he said. “It’s not a bad smell, and I suppose it’s their business, it just tempers their natural scent. But you, you smell vibrant and alive.”

“I’m glad you approve,” said Nina.

“Oh yes,” said the black mane. “I approve very much.”

He slid his paw down her face and neck, over her breasts and down to her skirt. She didn’t stop him as he ran his hand down her outer thigh, slid over and began moving back up, pushing her dress up as he went. His paw moved up her inner thigh, moving higher until he suddenly stopped. She smiled coyly as though asking him what was wrong.

“Been planning this long?” he asked, running the rough pads of his fingers over her bare outer lips, not covered by any underwear.

“Since before we got into town,” said Nina, giving a pleased sigh at his touch.

The black mane parted her folds around her clit, but released her without touching anything good. He took her hand and made her grip the bulge in his underwear behind the loincloth. He was hot in her hand, though not as heavy as the minotaur had been. His shaft was already straining the material as it hardened. She smiled up at him, delighted he was already so aroused.

“Give it a squeeze,” he said.

She obeyed, her eyes widening and her hand almost snatching back in surprise. The meat of his shaft felt like any other but when she pressed on it she could feel little bumps pressing back against her palm. She squeezed him again and couldn’t stop the gasp.

“Feel them?” the black mane asked. “That’s why most human women can’t take us. Still want to try?”

If he expected her to back out now, then he clearly didn’t know who he was dealing with. She shook her head.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

With a hand under each arm, he lifted her easily, carrying her to the bed and laying her down on the soft mattress. He straddled her hips balancing up on his knees while he worked her dress up to her hips, baring her for his eyes. Her slit was already getting wet at the thought of finally having something inside it.

The black mane reached down and undid the belt of his loincloth, taking it away in one piece. He folded it carefully and it was clear the clothing meant a great deal to him. He placed the folded cloth aside before returning his attentions to Nina. He pulled at the strings on the sides of his underwear and they fell away, revealing his erect shaft.

It was pale grey in colour, matching the pads on his fingers and the skin around his nose and eyes. It was large certainly, but perfectly in proportion with the rest of his body. Running up the side of the shaft were neat rows of white spines. They were short, but curved back on themselves.

Nina raised her hand again to touch him and he didn’t stop her. His flesh was hot and silky smooth, but the spikes dug into her hand when she squeezed him. They weren’t sharp and they didn’t hurt, but it was like pushing your own fingernail softly into your palm. She could only imagine was they would feel like inside her.

The black mane watched her expression move from surprise, through curiosity and into arousal.

“Still sure?” he asked.

Nina smiled up at him and nodded.

The merui pulled her hand away from him and moved back, settling between her legs with her thighs around his hips. He pressed a finger against her entrance, to feel her wetness, which slid in easily.

“I’m ready,” she said.

“I know,” he replied removing his finger.

The head of his shaft was hot and smooth as it pushed through her slick entrance, sliding in at a measured pace. Nina groaned at the feeling. She could barely feel the little nubs on his shaft, just the tiniest hint against her sensitive walls. The black mane stilled once he was inside her, letting her adjust to the feeling. Realising he wasn’t moving, Nina looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Ready?” he asked. “This is the part where you find out if you can take it or not.”

She nodded and he slowly pulled out. Gods, she could feel it now. The spines on his shaft faced backwards so they were almost unnoticeable on the inwards stroke, but as soon as he moved back, the tips slid along her inner walls. Again, they weren’t sharp. She was in no danger of being cut or seriously hurt, but it burned like a scratch. Her back arched and she had to muffle her surprised exclamation in her hand.

He stopped once only the head of his shaft remained inside her. It was a promising sign that she hadn’t screamed and tried to get him off her.

“Well?” he asked, ready to stop if she asked him to.

Nina moved her hands, and looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Please,” she said. “Again.”

The black mane smiled and pushed in once more, enjoy the soft moans that were bubbling up from the woman beneath him. When next he pulled out she tossed her head against the mattress, the muscles of her passage twitching around him. Feeling comfortable in her enjoyment he set up a rhythm, thrusting in at a regular pace but moving out more slowly.

Nina’s insides burned at every slide of the merui’s shaft, but the way the spines on the top ran over her sweet spot was driving her crazy. It was like a mosquito bite, like she’d had some maddening itch inside her that she’d never known about and for the first time it was getting scratched.

“Please,” she gasped.

“Gentle?” he assumed, willing to slow down if she needed it.

Nina shook her head.

“No,” she gasped. “More.”

“Harder?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes,” he replied.

The black mane smiled, this woman was truly unusual, but he was more than willing to give her what she wanted. He started to thrust into her with more enthusiasm, making his outward strokes as fast as his inward thrusts.

There were tears in the corner of Nina’s eyes now, but not from pain, but a kind of pleasurable relief. The burn in her nethers was intense and yet her climax was building like a tidal wave. She wanted to reach down and touch her clit, but she refrained, clutching at the sheets. She was so close, but she didn’t want to end it, it just felt so good.

She looked up at the merui taking her, her eyes bright with arousal. She wanted more, he could tell by the expression on her face. He shifted their position, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her back into his thrusts. The new angle pushed him deeper inside her, making her groan in delight. He wasn’t bothering to be gentle with her anymore, she’d already shown she could take it like a merui woman. He sped up, snapping his hips into her and giving her the full length of his shaft with each thrust.

“You feel so good,” he said, sounding pleased. “You squeeze me every time I move. Don’t think I’ll be able to last to long.”

“Me either,” admitted Nina, arching against the bed.

“I suppose this is the part where you want me to pull out,” he said, his voice husky. “Release on your stomach?”

“Not at all,” said Nina, smiling up at him. “I want you all the way to the end.”

“Is that so,” he asked, his thrusts speeding up as his climax approached.

Nina groaned her own finish building fast. She felt a hand on her chest and looked up at the merui. He ran a thumb over the pendent around her neck, his gaze boring into hers, letting her know he knew what it was.

“You play a dangerous game,” he said.

“I know,” she replied.

He seemed to be holding back his climax, likely assuming she was going to change her mind at any moment. In response she wiggled her hand between them, and closed her fingers around his sack, already draw up tight against his body and ready to release. He groaned at her touch, the sound almost a growl when she gave him a squeeze.

“If you keep doing that, I really will spill inside you,” he said, the warning in his tone was clear now.

“Will you now?” she asked, her voice making it obvious how much the idea turned her on.

The black mane moved suddenly, knocking her hand out of the way. He knelt up, pushing her legs back and spreading her wide. He slammed inside her, the tip of his shaft brushing her cervix he was so deep. She gasped at the feeling, it was a shock, but it made something pleasurable pulse inside her.

“You sure this is what you want?” he asked, having noticed the touch as well. His thrusts were growing erratic, his balls straining with their desire to empty their load.

Nina was so close, she could feel her finish just out of reach.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Give me everything.”

The black mane slammed into her one last time and stilled, buried as deep as he could, the head of his shaft practically kissing the entrance to her fertile womb. His shaft jerked and pulsed, sending ropes of potent seed to coat her walls and splash over her inner ring.

Nina moaned and tossed her head, finally dropping her fingers to her clit. The barest brush across it was all she needed before she too was falling over the edge. Her muscles clamping down hard on the shaft inside her, milking it of everything it had.

The black mane eventually relaxed and pulled back, making Nina shudder as the spines drew across her over sensitive insides.

“So,” he said, moving to lay next to her. “Has your curiosity been satisfied?”

“Curiosity yes,” breathed Nina. “My desire for more? Never.”

The merui laughed and stood, moving into the bathroom to clean their combined juices off his shaft so he could get dressed. Nina gave herself a moment to enjoy the afterglow, before she too stood, her dress falling to cover the evidence of their act.

“You’ll have to let me know if it took,” said the black mane coming back into the room.

“The chances are so low between us you don’t need to worry about it,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “But a low chance is still a chance. You’re clearly trying for it by wearing that pendent.”

“No,” said Nina, flashing him a cheeky smile. “The risk just makes it all the more exciting.”

A week after moving on, she was back in Kharu, the pendent around her neck glowing a bright red. She found the black mane again at the same inn, almost like he’d know she would be back and had been waiting for her. She smiled at him, feeling a bit shy, but he didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room to her side in only a few long strides. He buried his nose in her fragrant hair, breathing in her scent. One of his hands went to her still flat belly, where his cubs had just started their growth.

“You’re going to be mine,” he breathed into her ear. “My woman, my beautiful harem girl.”

“I know,” said Nina.

In Miraba, relationships were rarely just between two people and the idea of human style marriage was foreign. As long as they were having your child, and you could afford to keep them, any woman was fair game. As a part of your harem you could keep them as long as they would have your children.

“I’ll care for you, provide for you,” growled the black mane, his voice thick with lust. “I’ll take you every night you can take it, and once the little one is out.” He chuckled. “I’ll be sure to put another couple right back in.”

Nina sighed in the black mane’s arms.

“I look forward to it.”


End file.
